GloryBox
by QueenTee
Summary: [AU] A cynical woman with a past of anxiety issues quits her unfulfilling job but soon finds solace and satisfying ventures with the stern and mysterious therapist, Rick Grimes.
1. Hollaback Girl

"Today is the day…But what if he says no? What if he just laughs in my face for even mentioning a raise? Who am I fucking kidding? Nevermind."

Again. Michonne fell back into her chair before weakly pulling herself back into the cubicle and back inside the sad reality of her life and that she was never going to build up enough confidence to ask George for a raise.

"Yo! Mich?

Michonne's body sunk even further back into her chair in hopes of the chair concealing her enough that she would no longer be in Tara's line of fire but she knew the barrage of questions was inevitable at this point. As of recently, Tara has become the most obnoxiously inclusive person at work ever since her and Denise's announcement of their engagement.

You're still going out with us, right?"

"I'm...I was planning on visiting my brother this weekend. I'm sorry."

"Oh, come on, Mich. Everyone's coming. It'll be fun. Just tonight. Please, please, please!"

Michonne didn't know what was more depressing. The thought of having to come to work with another fabricated story about one of her family members or having to bear looking at those fake puppy dog eyes Tara kept projecting at her.

"Okay. Just tonight, though."

"Awesome! We'll see you there at 8, Mich!"

 _What the hell did I just get myself into? A night out with my coworkers. Most of them I don't even talk to and one that I have to refrain from putting into a chokehold on a daily basis. This is going to be terrible. What if I say something stupid or what if I get so drunk I embarrass myself and will forever be known as that coworker you should never invite out? Why did I say yes anyway?_

"So we're going to Harvey's with your new bestie, huh?

Don't start, Andrea. I'm still kicking myself about it.

Andrea was the first person she met after moving to Atlanta three years ago. She was funny, creative but incredibly cynical about pretty much everything, perhaps that's why they remained friends for so long, Michonne had to think to herself.

"Hey, who knows? Maybe you'll get lucky and we'll finally have something interesting to talk about." Andrea joked before placing her hands behind her head and leaning back into the cubical next to Michonne.

"I think I would have better luck being Tara's maid of honor." Michonne quickly retorted.

Breaking their snickering, George leaned himself up against the cubical."Michonne, can I speak with you for a moment in my office, please?"

"Sure." Not knowing why he wanted to see her, she followed him in the direction of his office nervously.

* * *

"Have a seat, Michonne."

She placed herself down into the leather seat and began to anxiously run her now sweaty palms down her pants, anticipating what George was going to say next.

"I've heard through the grapevine that you're thinking of quitting if you don't get a raise. Is this true, Michonne?

Stunned by this bluntness of his question, Michonne was rendered speechless for a few seconds before answering.

"It's not that I was going to quit, I ju. Just thought that since I've been here for a while, a raise wouldn't be too much to ask for. I am a good worker and I feel that I deserve to be paid more than I am currently."

Michonne felt a sense of relief that she had finally said what she had been practicing in the mirror for months. However at the same time, she felt anger that someone in the office had the gall to go behind her back and gossip to her boss about something they had no business speaking to him about.

"Well, I can't give you a raise, Michonne. You are a good worker. There's no denying that. Never had any complaints about you but raises are just not in our budget at the moment. I'm sorry. Maybe in another year we can talk about it, but as of now, it's just something that's not on the table."

A sudden feeling of nausea hit her stomach as she watched him collapsed back down into his chair and resuming looking over files and dismissing her from his office without even looking back up at her.

"I quit." She announced before slamming the door of his office.

* * *

 **7:53pm that night.**

Michonne sat in the taxi for what seemed like an eternity, periodically glancing out of the window and silently counting under her breath. She closed her eyes feeling the blood pound in her ears and the sinking feeling in her chest. The realization of now being unemployed and stepping out of her comfort zone was making her even more uneasy with each passing minute. After seven minutes and $2.55 later of wrestling with the idea of having the taxi driver leave the scent of burnt rubber in the air of the congested parking lot, she finally opened the car door and withdrew herself from the taxi.

* * *

"Hey, everyone! Check it out! Mich made it! I want my fucking five dollars, Daryl! "

Michonne rolled her eyes at the thought of Tara and Daryl betting on whether or not she would come out tonight while removing her jacket and locating the bar for the strongest drink on the menu to soothe her nerves.

"All the drinks are on me and my beautiful fiancé so let's drink up but remember to drive response..respon-a-bill.. Responsibly! Yeah, that's the word I meant. Drink responsibly!"

"Jesus. Tara doesn't waste any time getting shitfaced does she?" Andrea shook her head before having a seat next to Michonne.

"You know, for a second, I didn't think you were going to show up either. Just being completely honest with ya." Andrea confessed before ordering a cherry Vodka.

"To be honest, I wasn't. But I thought what the hell. It's been months since I've been out the house. I needed some air. Oh. Plus, I quit today, so yeah.

Can, I get a Blue Hawaiian, please?"

Andrea slammed her Vodka down and zeroed in on Michonne with her mouth hanging open.

"You. Did. What?

"I couldn't take it anymore, Andrea! I'm not going to be treated like shit for the next ten years of my life or however long I was planning on sticking it out at that piece of shit company and besides I can find something else. I'm not worried about it."

"Well, damn Mich. I'm proud of you! Let's drink to..to letting go of a shitty job and an asshole of a boss."

* * *

For the next half an hour, Michonne and Andrea continued to sit at the bar observing everyone's drunken behavior and laughing at how exceedingly high pitched and off key Daryl's singing voice was during his remixed rendition of Ricky Martin's 1999, Livin la Vida Loca.

"Okay..Okay..OKAY! Daryl, damn! Let someone else have a turn at the mic!" Tara shouted before nudging Daryl off of the stage.

"Last one of the night.

Andrea! Michonne! Come on down. You ladies are the only ones that haven't done it yet!"

Michonne instantly felt the room disfigure and she was now viewing it through fish eye lens. From her feet to her hands everything tingled and started and fell weak.

"Let's do this, Mich!" Andrea slammed her forth glass of vodka down on the bar and led the terrified Michonne into the drunken crowd of onlookers and onto the stage.

"Do y'all have Hollaback girl, by Stefani?!" Andrea yelled at the Dj while checking to make sure her voice was audible in the mic.

Michonne took in a long and deep breath in an attempt to stop the room from spinning above her.

 _"Uh huh._

 _This my shit._

 _All the girls stamp your feet like this…_

"Come on Michonne! You know this part, girl! Sing it!" Andrea excitedly encouraged her to start the chorus with her. Michonne wrapped her hands around the mic until her nails dug into her trembling palms hoping that would be enough to distract from the overwhelming feeling to pass out. She looked around the room before widening her mouth, preparing to sing despite the feeling of bile wanting to fill her mouth.

"Few times I've been around that track  
So it's not just.-

But before she was able to finish the second lyric line on the teleprompter, the bile had won the fight.

Michonne concealed her face in complete shame and embarrassment as her coworkers stood in shock and laughter.

* * *

 **Three months later.**

After a tedious search through countless job searches online and five failed interviews, she was desperate for anything. In a last hope effort, Michonne submitted her resume in for a front office receptionist for Mr. Grimes, a licensed therapist with seven years' experience and a specialization in anxiety and interpersonal psychotherapy.

…...

 **Six days later and one job interview invitation later**

Dark and swirling clouds blanketed the gray sky as rain relentlessly crashed against Michonne's yellow umbrella. She jogged across the street and onto Mr. Grimes' private practice. She let out a few nervous breaths into the cold stiff air, however beginning to second guess whether or not this would be the sixth failed interview. She could not financially afford to not get this job. She had already used up all of the money in both her checking and savings account and now was working on using her credit cards in order to buy groceries and pay rent. Not getting this job was not an option for her. She swallowed her anxiety before taking the plunge and entering the homely establishment.

Michonne removed the soaking hood that obstructed her sight and made her way over to the receptionist desk.

"Hi, my name is Michonne Boyum. I have an interview with Mr. Grimes for 4 o'clock."

"Ah. Ms Boyum. He's finishing up with a client. He'll be with you in a few minutes. You can have a seat right over there and bottle of water or a warm cup of black tea as you wait, if you like?"

"A tea would be great, thank you."

"Certainly."

Michonne couldn't help but stare at the thin and slightly teary eyed brunette.

"Excuse me, are you okay?"

The woman seemed stunned at Michonne's awareness of her true disposition.

"I'm Fine! Why do you ask?"

Well, your mascara is smeared and you look like you've been crying."

The woman's kind smile gradually morphed into an irritated expression.

"You're here for the receptionist job, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Well, don't think you're special because you're not."

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me."

Not wanting to mess up this opportunity by screwing up another job prospect, she flashed a smirk before walking over to the waiting room.

. …

Michonne maneuvered her wet raincoat over her other arm as she awaited Mr. Grimes on the dusty brown colored leather sofa. She took in another sip of her tea as she tried to calm her thoughts. " _Don't think you're special because you're not._ "

"What the fuck is that suppose to mean? Michonne asked herself. Tracing her thin fingers over the sides of the warm cup of tea, she jolted at the deep voice from behind her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms Boyum."

Startled by his southern drawl, Michonne turned around to greet Mr. Grimes' however the initial shock of how handsome he was caused her to pause momentarily before greeting him in return.

"Likewise."

The receptionist scowled at their exchange before loudly gathering her rose shaded lipstick and foundation powder. Keeping a persistent eye on them, she strutted off into the ladies' restroom to tidy her makeup.

"So, Ms. Boyum. I've looked over your resume and I must say I'm impressed. But I'm going to be frank you. You seem a little overqualified for this position. He informed her before crossing his legs and directing his curious eyes to hers.

"I..I know. But I." She let out a deep breath. Can I be frank you with you also?"

"I would hope so."His face took on a small grin as he bit his bottom lip, preparing for her concession.

"I really need the money. I quit my job, really impulsively. And right now, I'm just looking for something that is stable and will be put food on the table."

Relieved that she laid everything out but quickly starting to regret admitting how badly she needed this job, she looked into his face and tried to analyze any expression as to whether he was about to call in that bitch of a receptionist and have her escorted out of his office.

Rick tilted his head back slightly, almost giving the impression of being astonished by her level of candidness. "This is going to be very boring work for you, Ms. Boyum. Very boring work." He made sure to put an extra emphasis on the last part in case she needed to be reassured a second time. "I don't mind boring work."

Michonne couldn't help but stare away from the intensity of his gaze, however still managing to steal a few glances in between examining his artwork that adorned most of his office walls.

"If you are sure you can deal with it, you have yourself a job?"

"You won't be disappointed, Mr. Grimes."

"Please. Just call me, Rick, Ms. Boyum." He firmly shook her hand and flashed her a kind smile.

* * *

 **Later on that evening.**

"That will be all, Ms. Moore. Thank you. You should have your final check mailed to you within the next 72 hours.

Irked by the newfound professionalism between them now, the receptionist dropped a large stack of print paper for the copy machine down on the desk before marching over to Rick's office.

"You are such an emotionless, lying piece of shit! Do you know that, Rick?!"

Exhausted with her childish temper tantrums, Rick calmly removed himself from behind his desk and leisurely inched closer to the clearly distraught Lori.

"Listen, Lori. Like I told you from the start. We were never going to be what you wanted us to be. This is over."

Lori froze with a surly expression upon her flushed red face.

"Fuck you, Rick Grimes."

* * *

That night at Michonne's apartment.

Michonne rolled her head into the lukewarm water, drenching her thick locs as she flinched her toes onto the cold ceramic floor. She balanced herself by placing her hands on the shower walls as she tried to make sense of everything that happened this evening. After leaving her interview and the dirty looks that followed her out of the door from the receptionist she assumed she was jealous of her taking her job or maybe it was something else, been something deeper. She also replayed each moment with Rick Grimes like a book of flashing photographs. Rick was attractive but more notably, he seemed genuine. There was a warmth that emitted from his eyes that surrounded her like a comforting blanket when she was sat in front of him.

* * *

Rick grabbed his car keys, set the alarms and began to turn off the lights inside the building before shutting the door. Not expecting it to tell me as cold as it was outside, he clenched his coat before jogging over to his quickly retreat into his black Lexus and starting up the sedan. He sat in his car for a few seconds reflecting on the day, his clients, Lori and Michonne. He lingered on how endearing Michonne looked revealing why she was willing to take such uninspiring job with her qualifications. He smiled to himself as he placed the keys in the ignition. As the ambient lighting lit up sedan, Rick let out an annoyed sigh as he winced his eyes to made out the letters inscribed on his window shield, L.I.A.R, in what appeared to be in pink lipstick.


	2. Stranger than Earth

Much to her surprise, the clock flashed 7:32am when she finally unearthed her head out from under her cotton sheets. Eventually she mustered up the energy to sit herself up and let out a deep yawn. Trying to resist the urge of biting her nails, she reached out for her phone and checked for any missed text messages. As she slid her index finger up on her phone, she noticed one from Andrea, wishing her a good first day, another from Sasha, wondering if she was okay and the last from Aaron with a kissing face emoji and the abbreviation "IMU" for I miss you. A sense of guilt and shame washed over her as she stared at Aaron's text. On the night of the vomit calamity, Andrea and Aaron were the only ones that really consoled her. The following night, Aaron insisted on taking her out for pizza in attempts to help her forget about what happened the night before. This ultimately led her to waking up the next night with his arms wrapped around her waist and a used condom hanging out of the trashcan as a regrettable remainder of what she did. She found Aaron sweet and thoughtful but she couldn't shake the thought that she slept with him out of pity for knowing about his crush on her for months and out of her own desperation for intimacy. Dropping her phone back down on the dresser, she sat at the edge her bed for a few moments, giving her mind time to drift even more. " _I wonder what kind of boss Rick will end up being. Hopefully not like George. No. He can't be that bad. I'm sure. No one's as dreadful as that miserable bastard."_ She found comfort in that thought before springing out of bed and into the shower.

* * *

"Okay…What the hell am I going to wear?" she panicked to herself as she surveyed the dull closet.

"Hmm. What am I going for today? Hillary Clinton or the female equivalent of Steve Jobs?" She taunted herself before digging deeper within her closet for that blue pencil skirt she hadn't wore in eons.

"There, you are!" Her face lit up instantly with a wide smile.

* * *

It was now 8:18am as Michonne sat inside her older white Toyota Camry. She loosened her grip of the steering wheel and rested her head back into the head rest and closed her eyes before quietly counting to ten. After her calming ritual, she reached out and felt for her purse in hopes that she brought her Zoloft tablets just in case she had another episode. But to her dismay, they weren't in there.

…

Michonne wiped off the sweat from her palms before knocking on the front door. Tapping her flats onto the ground, she tried to fix her eyes on anything that wasn't the door, in anticipation of knowing he was on his way. The reality of seeing him again made her even more nervous. "Let's just try to get through this first day, Michonne." She repeated to herself, striving to quickly conceal her nerves with the facade of self-assurance. She looked up as she heard the first crackle of the door opening and braced herself.

"Well, good morning, Ms. Boyum. You're early. That's a good sign." He beamed with a pleased smile before widening the door and gesturing his invitation for her to come inside.

* * *

"I'm always here at 8:00am and I leave the door unlocked so feel free to let yourself in, Ms. Boyum."

"You can just call me, Michonne."

Rick looked back and let his blue eyes linger on her for a moment before nodding his head, accepting her request.

"I'm sure you are aware of how to use a fax and copy machine?" Michonne gave him a nod of assent. "Great. So there's no need to go over that."

While walking behind him, Michonne's eyes' couldn't help but gloss over his frame and how well put together he appeared to be. Sure, it could've been all superficial. For what she knew, he could be just as nervous as she was, it was doubting. He seemed perfect. Poise, educated and confident, she only wondered what that must feel like.

"Over there is the bathrooms and here is the break room. We usually have tea, water and there's an old coffeemaker behind there somewhere, if you ever have the need to make coffee.

We have four clients coming in today. The first is at 10am. Second, at 1pm. Third, at 3pm and the forth, at 4:15pm. Lori should have sorted their files out and made them easy for you to access, if not, please do not be afraid to get me." Rick expelled a deep breath and let his hands fall to his sides, steering his attention to Michonne studying her face for any concern or question.

"I think, I got, Rick."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Okay. Again, if you need me I'll be in my office. Please, remember to always knock."

"Of course."

Rick inched closer to her before gently placing his hand on top of her right shoulder.

"I'll leave you to it, then."

* * *

Michonne tapped her fingers on top of the granite counter top of the receptionist desk awaiting a client or even better, Rick to give her something to do. She leaned over and in the direction of Rick's office down the hall wondering what he was doing in there as he waited for his clients. In her mind, plenty of vulgar scenarios were being played out however, she knew with someone as professional as him they were highly unlikely. But she still entertained the thoughts out of boredom.

Ten minutes later, she finally heard that crack of the door open as she straightened her slouchy posture before greeting the young blonde.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm here to see Mr. Grimes for 10am?"

"Yes. He's been expecting you." Michonne logged into the online database and immediately felt a sense of relief that Lori actually did her job and made sure the clients' files readily accessible so she didn't have to disturb Rick.

"I see a Tiffany Rollins for 10am."

The woman smiled and sat her expensive handbag onto of the counter after blowing a small bubble with her gum. "Yup. That's me."

"Great. I'll let Mr. Grimes know you're here."

"Thanks."

Michonne flicked down the intercom knob and informed Rick of Ms. Rollins' arrival.

'He'll be with you shortly but in the meantime is there anything I can get you? We have water, tea or coffee."

"No. I'm fine. I'll just sit and wait. So you're his new secretary?"

"Yes. I am."

"That's cool. Hanging out with a hottie like Rick all day doesn't sound too bad of a gig. He's nice, can be a bit of a stiff ass at times but nice.

Michonne didn't really know how to respond to her comments so she just nodded in agreement and sat back down behind her desk.

"Ms. Rollins, it's always nice to see you again. Rick politely greeted Tiffany while directing her into his office.

* * *

Michonne released a deep breath as the last client of the day shut the door behind them. She bent down in order to grab her handbag underneath the desk. Flopping it on the desk, she reached her arm inside to retrieve her cell and check for any texts. Disappointed to discover only texts from her mother, Andrea, Aaron and missed calls from bill collectors.

Not sure whether or not she should just leave or let Rick know she was leaving. She stood, looking at Rick's office and biting her nails. After a minute of weighing the two options, she decided to be on the safe side and let Rick know. Michonne placed her purse over her bare shoulders and adjusted her white sleeveless top before wandering down the hallway and knocking on Rick's crimson colored office door.

"Come in." Michonne felt her breathing become shallow, fearing she may have disturbed him as his southern drawl sounded slightly more winded.

"I wasn't sure whether or not it was okay to just leave or if there was a specific way you wanted me to check out." She lingered by the doorway as if she was afraid to invade his space.

"After 5pm, you can go. I can't keep you here against your will." He chuckled to himself brushing his slightly wet wavy tresses back. Michonne stood by the doorway examining his flushed face as he removed himself from behind his desk and over to the much more spacious couch while unbuttoning his navy vest. "Will you join me? I promise not to take up much of your time." Her stomach fluttered as his eyes followed her over to the couch. "I just wanted to let you know that you did an excellent job today, Michonne. I was thoroughly impressed with the way you handled my clients."

"Thank you, Rick."

Michonne couldn't resist but break from her eye contract with Rick. It felt like he had the ability to penetrate through all of her defense mechanisms, leaving her completely vulnerable and exposed."

"Are you shy, Michonne?"

"I um. I'm more anxious than shy." She didn't know where the compulsion to tell him that emerged from however, sitting on the couch of a therapist's office might've done the trick. She joked to herself.

"I also get anxious a lot." He confessed while continuing to study her delicate face and espresso colored eyes.

She never saw Rick as an anxious person. He was always tact and polished whenever she was around him but her mind now strayed to the thought of how he might've been at home. She didn't notice a wedding ring so maybe he was as just as flawed as her. She mulled over the thought.

"Being anxious is a normal feeling. We all have our own unique ways of dealing with it."

"How do you manage your anxiety, Rick?"

"I exercise."

Michonne was a bit taken aback by such a brief but strangely revealing answer.

"That's healthy."

Earnestly watching her as she again removed her eyes from his, Rick clenched his hands tighter together trying to force those nagging thoughts out of his mind. But he failed to hold back the small smirk that formed on his face. He wanted to subdue it but couldn't challenge the fact that he found her timid countenance around him especially alluring.

"And how do you manage yours, Michonne?"

"I… I just count to ten. But I guess I'm just strange like that." She let out a nervous laugh, embarrassed by her answer in comparison to his. She dropped her head, wanting to sink into the ground and out of his sight.

"Strange is subjective."

A heavy yet calming silence settled over them as they sat observing one another, trying to piece together what one thought of the other.

Breaking the growing silence between them, Rick interjected.

"I want you to take the day off tomorrow and don't worry, it will be paid. I want you to have a day of not worrying or feeling anxious. Treat yourself however you see fit."

"Rick. I don't really know what to say." Shocked by his generosity, she didn't know how else to respond but smile.

"You do not have to say anything. Just enjoy it." His smile came with a genuine sincerity that made Michonne's entire body fall weak. "Thank god I am already sitting down." She thought to herself, relieved.

"Well, I'm going to stop taking up anymore of your time." Adapting a more formal tone, he broke their eye contact and grinned.

Enjoy the rest of your evening, Michonne."

* * *

Michonne relaxed her body and slid herself into the warm rose scented water, blocking out all thoughts…except Rick. She fixed her attention on his faint cobalt eyes, those kissable and pink lips and how much she craved the tingling sensation of them bombarding her umber skin. Giving into her fantasies, Michonne shut her eyelids softly as her hand intrinsically crept from her navel and under the still water on a quest to satisfy her throbbing clit.

* * *

Michonne felt a sense of peacefulness as she strolled through the vibrantly green park as it beautifully contrasted under the pellucid blue sky. The smell of fresh rain and grass filled her nostrils as she smiled at the children cheerfully running through the playground as their parents stood over to the side monitoring them. For the first time in a while Michonne felt no sense of anxiety plague her mind. And happiness being the absence of troubling thoughts, dare say that she was truly happy. She almost forgot how liberating it felt to not overthink everything she did. To just let things be. The idea of getting a pretzel instantly popped in her head once she saw a food truck stationed down the street.

* * *

After her relaxing scroll, Michonne realized that she hadn't been to the laundromat in a full week. Gathering all of her dirty clothes and clothes she planned on wearing to work, she placed them into a large laundry basket and locked her apartment door behind her. Struggling to manage holding the heavy basket and the laundry detergent, a friendly voice in front of her caused her to drop her basket.

"I'm sorry! Let me get that for you."

"Aaron. What are you doing here?" She brushed a stray loc from her face and throwing him an irked scowl.

"I sent you a couple of texts but you didn't respond so I thought I would just come see you. I'm sorry."

Feeling bad for avoiding him for weeks, Michonne switched her annoyed tone to a more remorseful one.

"I'm sorry, Aaron. I really am. I've just been busy."

"No, I understand. Did you ever find something?" Aaron wondered.

"Yeah, I did."

"Oh, wow! That's great news, Mich! I wish you would've told me about it earlier. It would've been nice to celebrate it."

"I don't really like celebrating things."

"Yeah. Me either, really." Aaron nervously changed his opinion.

"Where you headed to?"

"I'm just going to the laundromat. Nothing exciting."

"I'll go with you. You look like you need some help anyway."

Looking at the large laundry basket and the eager expression on Aaron's face, she obliged.

* * *

Aaron placed towels underneath his black Nirvana t-shirt and disheveled his hair, giving the impression of George's beer gut and horribly obvious toupee. Highly amused, Michonne's giggle matured into a full fit of laughter as she watched Aaron's dead on impersonation. Thrilled his jokes and impressions were landing, he removed the towels from under his shirt and sat back down next to Michonne. Feeling the adrenaline flow though him like like electricity, Aaron couldn't resist but lean over and kiss her radiant smile. Surprised by her touch, Michonne caressed the back of his head falling deeper into his kiss.

* * *

Before reaching into his black slacks for his wallet, Rick's muscle tensed as he watched Michonne kiss Aaron. He held his breath for what seemed like minutes before resuming to withdrawing his credit card from his wallet and paying the cashier for the dry cleaning. He continue glaring at Michonne while grabbing his now pristine suits without even acknowledging the cashier. "Sir! Signature." The irritated cashier snapped.

Pulling him out of his thoughts, he signed the receipt. He shook his head and clinched his jaws before smirking to myself and exiting the dry cleaning service shop.


	3. Waiting Game

**AN: I really appreciate everyone for keeping an open mind and giving this story a chance. I know it's kind of different but it was just an idea that popped in my head and I felt the need to express in the form of a fanfic. Also, to those of you who got the Secretary movie reference, y'all my people! XD**

...

 **(Two weeks later)**

"You really want to do this?" Andrea looked down at Michonne with hesitancy written on her face.

"Yes. I've made up my mind." Michonne gripped the metal arms of the chair and prepared herself.

"Do it."

Giving into Michonne's request, Andrea reached over for her shears and held out one of Michonne's brown locs.

Gazing at herself through the mirror, Michonne watched as loc after loc fell to the ground with a sense of release after each one.

"I've had them for eight years. I just needed this change, Andrea."

"Yeah. There's something in a new haircut that makes you feel like a new person. I get it."

"Pretty sure Aaron's going to love it." Andrea teased while cutting off the last few locs toward the back.

"Don't start. I feel horrible, Andrea. I shouldn't have let it get this far." Michonne dropped her eyes and exhaled.

"Wait. Did you sleep with him?" Curious, Andrea felt the urge to ask while styling Michonne's low cut hair.

"Just once. I just…"-Michonne searched her mind, trying to find the most accurate words. "I was really feeling down and he was making me feel better...It just happened."

Noticing the drastic change in Michonne's energy, Andrea felt the need to console her friend.

"Everyone has those moments, Mich. Just be honest with him. It'll be okay."

"Yeah. I going to tell him. I just don't want him to hate me, you know?"

Wrapping her arms around Michonne's shoulders, Andrea leaned over and stared at her friend's new look in the mirror.

"He won't. And you look beautiful."

* * *

 **(The Next Morning)**

The hot stream from the shower engulfed her bathroom as Michonne tipped her head back allowing the warm water to rain down her face and slowly falling back into her thoughts of how she was going to explain things to Aaron without hurting his feelings. "I'll just go over to his place after work today and tell him." She thought to herself before reaching out for a towel and getting dressed for work.

* * *

Even with the thoughts of Aaron weighing heavy on her mind, Michonne couldn't help but think of what Rick's reaction would be to her new hairstyle. Or if he would even notice at all considering how distant and brief he's been these past few days. This possibility she mulled over before adjusting her skirt and entering the building.

* * *

As Michonne shut the door behind her, she figured Rick would be locked up in his office sorting through client files again, so she continued on with her usual routine. Sitting her purse down in that familiar area under her desk and walking over to the break room for a cup of water, she noticed the empty tray for cups. Letting out an annoyed sigh, she bent down to fish for another bag of foam cups for the water dispenser.

"We have a few-" Rick's deep drawl came to a quick halt as he slowly lowered his coffee mug from his lips to take in the sight of Michonne in such a position.

Numb by the fact Rick was not in his office, Michonne swallowed her nerves and eventually turned around to acknowledge Rick's presence.

"We ran out of cups." Her voice was tight as she folded her arms and apprehensively watched Rick for some kind of reaction. He arched his eyebrow and softened his eyes while glossing over Michonne's tapered cut and how beautifully it shaped her face. "It fit her perfectly." He thought to himself. The more he stared, the more mesmerizing she became to him.

Taking his quietude for dislike, Michonne stroked the back of her head to alleviate her anxiety.

"You look stunning. Michonne."

Surprised by the softness in his voice, Michonne raised her head to meet up with his ocean-like eyes.

There was static between them, a tension that caused crackles to flicker in the air. Michonne's eyes wandered over his pouty pink lips that were perfectly framed by a thick beard dominated by grey hairs. It gave him a mature, fully grown and regal air, something she found nearly irresistible on him.

Running his fingers through his lustrous tousled brown waves, Rick interrupted the stillness in the room to clear his throat.

"I'm expecting more clients than usual today so it would be a good idea to take advantage of this time and update the database."

Feeling torn from her trance, Michonne nodded in agreement before following Rick out of the break room.

* * *

Michonne glanced over at the clock for what seemed like the thousandth time waiting for the last client before lunch. The room was silent as it usually was in between clients. The only things that were audible were the periodic smacks of her keyboard and the faint telephone conversations of Rick with particular clients who were probably in the midst of a meltdown. Her thoughts then turned to Rick and their moment in the break room. And how they paused, just staring into each other's eyes completely blocking out everything around them. Before she was able to fix her attention to another passing thought, she grasped at the sight of Aaron at the door.

"Aaron. What are you doing here?" Michonne stood from her chair, completely dumbstruck.

"I just thought you might wanna have lunch. And I wan." Aaron paused for a second, startled by her new hairstyle.

"Wow."

"Look. I really need to tell you something, Aaron." Michonne inserted with a worried expression.

"No. Me, first. Please." Aaron scratched the back of his head and peered at Michonne.

Bracing herself to feel even more awful than she already did, Michonne sunk back into her chair and agreed to let him speak first.

"I. Um. How do I put this? We're friends, right?" Aaron voice wobbled before placing his hands into his pockets to conceal his nerves.

"Of course we are." Michonne nervously answered, fearful of where this conversation was leading.

"I just got out of a relationship. And I really like you. A lot. I think you're absolutely gorgeous. I think you know that by now. But I'm not really trying to, you know, get into anything serious again, at least not right now." Scared of her reaction, Aaron winced his eyes before looking back up at her.

"No! It's cool!" Michonne's usually low and raspy voice became slightly more silvery as she couldn't contain her relief of his confession.

"I wasn't sure how I was going to tell you either."

Aaron's eyes lit up as he leaned over the desk and smiled.

"So we went through all of that fucking stress when we could have just told each other from the beginning?"

They both broke into a slightly embarrassed chuckle at the silliness of the situation.

"So we're good and still on for lunch, right?" Aaron widened his eyes.

"We're good and we're still on for lunch, Aaron." Michonne smiled back in return.

All of the guilt and anxiety surrounding her circumstance with Aaron instantly melted into nothingness. She finally felt the need to loosened her shoulders and permitting herself to finally relax and take comfort in knowing Aaron had no expectations of a serious relationship as she wrongly suspected. Enlivened by that reality, Michonne reached down into her handbag to update Andrea on what happened.

* * *

Typing in the last appointment reschedule for a client, Michonne glanced over to Rick leaning himself up against the wall with his arms folded while waiting for her to finish.

Securing the client's new session for the following day, Michonne logged off the database and directed her attention to Rick.

"Next time your boyfriend pays you a visit at work, I would appreciate if you two would wait until lunch to have such lively conversations. This is a business and I would like to keep it professional." Rick's southern drawl took on a more toneless pitch.

Shifting her dark eyes to get a better look of something that flashed under his hard exterior, Michonne leaned back onto her desk and settled herself in front of him.

"He's not my boyfriend. He's a friend."

"Well, it's not my business whether he is or not, Ms. Boyum." Amused by her admission, a small grin etched its way into Rick's face as he unfolded his arms and pulled himself away from the wall. Leisurely pacing toward his office, Michonne's question echoed in the air causing him to crease in his tracks.

"You sure it's not?"Provoked by the growing tension between them, Michonne swallowed those words as Rick turned around to face her.

His smirk soon faded into a hard line, leaving nothing but his flexing jaw muscles apparent.

Frozen by the thought of Rick's next move, Michonne felt the sudden presence of a cold wall press into her back as Rick inched closer to her. His crystal blue eyes scanned over her body, analyzing each quiver and breath. Closing her eyes in anticipation, Michonne readied her lips until she sensed the warmth of his strong hands gliding over her bare arms before pinning them together over her head. Michonne melted into the aroma of Rick's woodsy cologne as his beard softy grazed against her jaw, leaving a stream of tender kisses across her neck and chest. He stopped and lingered over plump lips, visibly aching to touch them. He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip before angling his head and drawing his yearning lips closer.

"Do you do this with all of your receptionists?"

Hit by such an unexpected question, Rick eased his grip of Michonne's arms and drew in a flustered breath.


	4. Feel You in My Bones

Their breaths untangled as Rick leaned himself against the desk widening the distance between them with Michonne's question still weighing heavy in the air.

"Not every receptionist."

His southern drawl was even more drawn out as he tapped his fingers against the edge of the front desk trying to relieve his discomfort.

"I just asked becau-"

"Of Lori?" Piecing together where Michonne's probe was likely coming from, Rick finished her thought.

"Yeah." Michonne's short nails pressed into the skin of her forearms as she stood anxiously staring at Rick for an honest answer.

"Lori and I had a sexual relationship but she wanted something outside of that, so I ended it."

Michonne was appreciative of his openness and candor but she couldn't help but feel Rick was in the process of making her his next scorned prey.

"So I reckon that's something you want with me, right?"

Michonne curiously tilted her head as she tightened the grip on her forearms.

Rick's eyebrows rose a notch as his lips drew back into a cheeky grin.

"Well. If that's something you wanted?"

Having her belief confirmed, Michonne rolled her eyes and released her arms before letting out a huff and reaching for her purse.

"Or."

Clearly enjoying toying with her patience, Rick placed his hands inside of his pockets and glossed over Michonne as she glared at him over her shoulder.

"I could take you out to dinner right now?"

Reading the small smile forming over her face, Rick's mischievous grin faded into a gentle beam. There was something about her that made him feel alive, enlivened even.

* * *

Michonne's eyes shifted from her glass of pinot noir over to Rick. Her heart was racing at the possibility of this being a real date. _"Is he really serious or is this just some ice breaking tactic?_ " She wondered before taking another sip of her red wine hoping to rid herself of the thought.

"Why did you quit your last job, if you don't mind me asking? Rick inquired.

Not expecting this question, Michonne nearly choked on her wine before answering.

"Well. It was a combination of things, really. I felt stagnate and completely unappreciated. I don't know if you've ever felt this way but just at a lost. Like I was drifting into nothingness. I needed something new. A fresh start somewhere else."

Rick's jaw tensed as his pouty lips curved into a smile before sitting the glass of cold water back down onto the adorned table.

"I know exactly what that feels like."

Michonne thoughts were in a haze as she fixed her brown eyes over his pink lips craving to feel them all over her skin again.

Sensing the desire behind her eyes, Rick smirked before taking out his credit card and slipping it into the bill folder.

"It's getting late. I should probably get you home"

* * *

Michonne crossed her ankles and relaxed her hands on her knees as they leaned against the center console of Rick's Lexus. The passing streetlights painted her milk chocolate complexion red, green and amber as she stared out of the passenger window to avoid looking over to Rick, in fear she would tear off his clothes and cause an accident. However, during each red light, she managed to steal glances of him, thinking of the ways she would kiss him and how he touched her in the office. The images of her running her fingers through his curly thick hair as he kissed between her thighs just before sliding his tongue inside of her was driving her crazy. Michonne rubbed her hands together and then placed them between her knees, forcing them into submission as she observed his movements, like the way his head turned onto the road. Rick felt Michonne's steady gaze and let a deep sign escape from his lips before adjusting his growing erection. He loved knowing how much she wanted him. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed the way her hands were shyly placed in between her thighs in attempt to conceal her nerves and increasing wetness.

Clearing his throat, Rick turned over to Michonne. "Do I make a right or left here?"

"Which way will lead to your place?"

Michonne's eyes flickered with lust as she removed her hands giving Rick a better view of her now saturated panties.

Fully submitting to his desires, Rick adapted a more serious expression as his eyes lit up with intent before he reached over taking a firm hold of her delicate neck and kissing her gently.

* * *

Rick led Michonne upstairs, and with each step her brain was set ablaze, confronted with the realization that she wasn't dreaming. The reality of sleeping with Rick was inching closer and closer to making her stomach flutter with each passing second.

Rick unbuttoned his vest and tossed it onto his king size bed. His bedroom seemed massive in comparison to hers. She couldn't help but notice how neatly placed everything was. It looked like something out of a home décor magazine apart from the large mirror that rested above his bed. There was also an enormous window that's drapes were half opened, giving them a breathtaking view of Atlanta's skyline.

Rick's rough hand alighted Michonne's soft face as he brushed over her lips, slowly descending past her collar bone.

"The safeword is glory."

Michonne swallowed her anxiety, apprehensive at what Rick had in mind. She also mulled over how turned on she was at the thought of Rick fucking her to the point of her feeling the need to use a safeword.

Michonne nodded her head and raised her arms for Rick to remove her clothing.

Anticipation caused her head to fall back onto his shoulder blade before Rick released her breasts from a red bra. Michonne inhaled his musky scent as he cupped her breasts, caressing and softly pinching her nipples as they hardened in his hands. Nibbling on her ears, he soon dropped his right hand to her thigh, pulling up her pencil skirt searching for her panties to remove next. She moaned at the cold touch of his finger tip parting her slippery lips. Rick's mouth dropped with a lustful expression at the feel of how much she needed him. Unable to stand it any longer, he had to relieve himself from the tightness of his garments, first undoing his belt, then letting his trousers drop to the carpet exposing his large erection. Dying to have him inside of her now, Michonne meandered over and onto his spacious bed before licking her index finger giving Rick direction as to where she wanted his dick.

Taking the hint, Rick placed a condom over his stiff cock, before crawling onto the bed and between her legs, leaving a trail of kisses inside of each thigh. Flicking his tongue over her dark nipples, Rick lingered over her taking in the sight of her nude body as she ran her fingers though his tussled curls. Pressing his body into hers, Rick's captured her soft and full lips, causing her body to flush with heat as his tongue explored her mouth. Reaching out over her arms, Rick broke their passionate kiss to place each of her hands in restraints. Her skin was now taught with goose bumps at the idea of being completely at his mercy. Searching her eyes, Rick watched her for any sign of disapproval but there was none, and to his excitement, he resumed. Playfully rubbing his cock over her waiting pussy, Rick grinned as she squirmed and twitched at each flick of his dick over her throbbing clit.

"Do you want this?"

Michonne looked up at him, with his disheveled curls covering his intense eyes as he waited above her, eyes overtaken with lust and cock ready. She felt a fire in nerves which just increased her arousal even more, losing herself in his brooding gaze.

"Yes."

His blue eyes darkened as he positioned his manhood deep inside her. A breathy moan expelled from Michonne as she jerked her hands from the metal chains, badly wanting to dig her nails into his back. Rick sank himself even deeper into Michonne's hungry pussy, letting out a heavy groan at the sensation of her tightening around him. Delving into absolute pleasure, Michonne watched Rick's thigh muscles flex through the ceiling mirror as she came countless times from his relentless rhythm. Feeling her legs shake erratically in his hands while watching his cock glisten from her juices as he worked her g-spot, his eyes started to glow with aggression and desire. Sounds of metallic shackles, loud moans and the slapping of their flesh filled the moist air before Rick's pace quickened as he succumbed to his orgasm. Everything faded to black as Rick felt fire pooling from the depth of his abdomen before filling the condom with his seed and collapsing back down to earth. Rick took a brief moment to calm himself before releasing Michonne's hands from the restraints.

Gliding her finger tips over Rick's flushed back, she stared into his eyes as Rick slowly and inexorably pressed his lips to hers, taking in her bottom lip before sinking himself back on top of her.

* * *

Stray beams of early morning sunlight ran across her face as her eyes eventually opened. The view of sunrise slowly came into focus as did Rick sleeping next to her. The corner of her mouth quirked up at the sight of him peacefully sleeping, his arms slightly hanging over the bed, the way his untamed curls hid his eyes, Michonne giggled at that sight before carefully removing herself from the burgundy colored covers, hoping not to wake him. Locating her clothes from the floor, Michonne scanned the room for a bathroom.

"Yo Rick! You going? We need to leave before the gym gets- Oh my god! I'm sorry!"

Michonne screamed at the sight of a random man bursting through the door causing Rick to spring up from his sleeping position.

"What! What's wrong?" Stumbling over his trousers on floor, Rick's eyes glazed at Michonne still half-awake and unsure of what was going on.

"Some guy just barged in here, Rick!"

"What did he look like?" Fearful it may have been a burglar, Rick hastily picked his slacks off the floor, erratically placing each leg through them.

"I didn't get a good look of him but I know he had a buzz cut and he-"

"Oh! Don't worry about him."

Relieved, Rick collapsed back down onto the bed.

"What the hell do you mean "Don't worry about him?" some random dude just invited himself in your house and saw my naked ass."

"That's just Shane. He's a really good friend of mine. His girlfriend kicked him out and he's just staying with me for the time being. Until he works things out. Are you hungry?"

Frozen by Rick's nonchalant attitude, she glared at him with a blank expression on her face as Rick smirked at the sight of her wrapped up in the blanket throw off his sofa.


	5. House of Metal

"Sorry. I didn't mean to barge on you two like that." Shane cocked his head to the side, shifting his dark eyes over to Rick. "Someone should have fuckin told me he had a guest."

A deep breath expelled from Rick as he continued to fasten his pants while Michonne straightened her top and scanned over Shane. He wore a pair of loose sweatpants that led up to a faded black tank, adhering to his chest which detailed every muscle that rippled across his body. His face was strong and defined with bristly eyebrows that framed above his brown eyes _;_ which almost appeared black in this light _._ He was attractive in a conservative bad boy kind of way, she thought to herself.

"Shane, this is Michonne. Michonne, Shane. "

Desperately wishing she still had her dreads to hide from the awkward meeting, Michonne forced her lips upward and into a smile.

Shane's brows lowered as a cheeky smile spread across his lips while reaching out to shake her hand. She was very different from women he normally seen Rick with. She was bashful, nervous even. He could sense her nerves on edge just in their handshake, but the fact Rick felt the urge to bring her home was even more unusual. Most of the women Rick and him entertained were out before sunrise and now he was about to get breakfast with her. _What made this one so special?_ He mulled over the question for a moment before speaking.

"Nice to meet you, Miss."

"Likewise."

Michonne couldn't help but notice a flash of something behind his grin as she shook his hand.

Watching their exchange from a distance, Rick clenched his jaws and winced at the look in Shane's eyes, compelling him to intervene.

"Ready, Michonne?"

"Yeah."

Michonne felt grateful for his interruption as she collected her black satchel from the couch and waited for him.

"Oh. Rick! Jadis called. She wanted to know if you were still alive. Don't worry, I didn't answer. Straight to voicemail."

Michonne stopped in her tracks as Shane's comment swirled around in her mind, followed by other dreaded thoughts that also looped around. _Who the fuck was Jadis? Was that his girlfriend? His sister? His wife?_ She was pissed but her thoughts also strayed to the sobering fact that she and Rick weren't in any exclusive relationship so did she really have the right to be pissed? He wasn't committed to her.

Taking in a deep breath, she swallowed that hard realization and opened the door to let herself out.

Rick fixed his eyes on Shane for what seemed like an eternity before walking over to the door.

Leisurely following Rick to the door, Shane placed his hands inside the pockets of his grey sweatpants and glanced over to Rick biting the edge of a smile.

"I see you, Rick."

Instantly sensing the nuances in his words, Rick calmly turn around to face Shane.

"Not this one." Rick's drawl was thick with seriousness causing Shane's playful attitude to wane into a more confused expression.

* * *

The air was filled with chats of art trends, the latest iphone release and the loud clicks of worried students' fingers dancing skillfully over their keyboards. Trying to maintain a calm composure, Michonne numbly picked up her coffee mug and glossed over Rick's casual outing clothes; a pair of holey, dark wash jeans and a light jean shirt unbuttoned at the collar. It was a welcomed change from his usual posh style. Rick winced as he took in a sip of his latte. It was room temperature, overly bitter and lacking real cream however, it was a source of energy so he continued to sip.

"Sorry for my friend. He's a real pain in the ass sometimes." Rick began.

"It's fine."

Jadis' name rested at the tip of her tongue as she tried to restrict herself from asking him in fear of seeming whiny or overly emotional.

Irked by such a brief and uncaring response, Rick knew there was something deeply bothering her. He removed the mug from his mouth and wiped the leftover coffee from his grey tinged beard with a napkin at the corner of the table.

"Tell me what's wrong, Michonne."

"Nothing… I'm just..Thinking of all the new clients I'm going to have to add in the system Monday. We're going to be pretty busy. That's all. "

A small snort escaped from between Rick's pursed lips as he quickly covered his mouth in order to conceal the wave of subtle laughter that soon followed.

"What?" Michonne crossed her arms at the sight of Rick making light of her dour mood.

"It's not funny, Rick."

With each surge of laughter, there was a little portion of seriousness released from Michonne. She hated to admit it to yourself but she found Rick's laugh incredibly cute and contagious.

"You're right. It's not. Forgive me."

Removing his hand from over his mouth, Rick attempted to compose himself and revert back to a more serious disposition.

"What Shane said back at the house…" He paused for a moment and raised his head to meet Michonne's attentive eyes.

"Jadis and I are not together. Or involved in any sexual relationship."

Michonne almost immediately felt her fears and suspicions evaporate into the coffee scented air of the small shop.

"Who is she? If you don't mind me asking?"

Rick's mouth ran dry as he felt the tightness of his jaws and shoulders tense up at the question.

"She's a dungeon master at a fetish club, I sometimes attend."

Anxious, Rick leaned back in the chair studying her reaction, visualizing the sparks going off in her brain as she connected the dots.

Her brain could not formulate any thoughts other than to illustrate the dumbfound expression left on her face. Reflecting back on the previous night, Michonne was not particularly shocked by the idea of Rick harboring certain fetishes but attending fetish clubs? _And what the hell was a dungeon master_ , she asked herself.

"Okay... Alright...Not surprising but surprising." Michonne joked to herself as she raised herself from a sunken posture.

"How often do you attend this...fetish club?"

"Once, maybe twice a week. However it's been about a month since I have been back. " He answered.

"Why is that?"

"It's become too dull, too predictable."

"What do you do while you're there?" Michonne's curiosity was started to get the best of her.

Pleasantly surprised by her genuine inquisitiveness, he narrowed his eyes and flashed a small smirk.

"Would you like me to show you?"

"Like. Go with you and watch?" Michonne questioned.

"Yes."

A little rise in the corner of her mouth became apparent as she pondered over his offering.

"Yeah. Why not?"

"If it becomes too much for you, let me know and we'll leave. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable." Rick informed her with sincerity thick in his drawl.

"Michonne reflected on what she imagined a fetish club being like; Loud music, scantily clad men dressed in nothing but leather collars crawling on the floor as a tall blondes in skintight latex cat suits yank them along. While mulling over this, she soon began to question her acceptance of Rick's offer.

"Wear something alternative, preferably black." Rick flashed a mischievous smile before finishing the rest of his latte.

* * *

 **(10:13pm)  
**

Michonne withdrew herself from the pristine Lexus, as Rick shut the door behind her. She felt her mind racing a million miles per hour, nearly becoming dizzy from her own thoughts.

"Still up for this?" Feeling the tension in her hands, Rick checked for a third time needing to have his mind put at ease and assured she was comfortable with her decision.

"Rick."

Michonne throw him a knowing look before tightening the grip of his hand. His hands reassured her that everything would be fine and any fear or reservation she had withered away to little more than a foolish notion.

"Just making sure." He smiled.

* * *

A mixture of alcohol and sweat instantly hit Michonne's nostrils as they entered the large elegant building. A kaleidoscope of vibrant colors bathed them in fluorescent light as Rick led her through the crowd of bodies tightly pressed together and dancing to the sounds of an underground industrial band blaring out from speakers.

"She's with me." Rick informed the muscular guard standing by a velvet curtain from behind the club.

Entering a more intimate setting, Michonne removed her hand from her ear. The music was notably quieter however, she still felt an annoying ringing in her ears.

Glancing over from a dark corner, Jadis' face lightened as she seen Rick's silhouette from within the crowd. The sight of him was like liquid adrenaline injected straight into her blood stream.

"Get off me. He's here!" Jadis hastily shoved the man's head that rested on her lap off of her and forced her way through the crowd to greet Rick.

"Well. Well. It's been a while since I seen you, stranger."

Jadis' wide smile immediately melted away as she noticed Rick's hand intertwined with Michonne's.


	6. Bloody Sunday

**An: This chapter gets a little crazy. Just a heads up!**

* * *

Michonne's eager eyes followed Rick as he slowly removed his cashmere trench coat whilst walking toward the center of the red lit room and onto the raised platform. Silence grew over the onlookers as they waited in anticipation of Rick's performance; which was always treated as the main event of the evening whenever he attended. Rick's steely blue eyes searched the room for Michonne as he sauntered over to the nude woman that stood in front of the static crowd. Michonne gulped trying to swallow the tinge of reluctance evoked by his austere gaze, as his eyes were unrelenting and his jaws taut. The woman extracted her hair pin causing her thick black curls to cascade upon her fragile shoulders. A dose of excitement shot through her veins as Rick crept into her sight from the corner of her eye, a yearning smile spread across her porcelain face.

Without returning her smile, Rick continued his observation of the woman's posture before ceasing behind her.

"Kneel"

he said firmly, continuing to watch her stop for a moment, contemplating before dropping to her knees. Drawing in a deep breath, she felt the soft silk of a blindfold cover her eyes, biting her lip sensing Rick pull it into a tight knot around the back of her head.

"I've never seen her here before. Who is she?"

An regal brunette's raspy voice echoed from behind Jadis, pulling her attention from Rick to Michonne near the front of the crowd, forming Jadis' face into a even more pronounced scowl.

"Just Rick's next meal. And nothing else."

"I don't know about that, Jadis. I've never seen him so enthralled with a guest."

The woman countered her assertion. Jadis' let out an irritated sigh and turned her head back. "He holds her hand? Which means absolutely nothing, Delia."

Delia studied Jadis' curious expression with a hint of skepticism knowing full well of her obsession with him before resuming her observation of Rick on stage. The rattling of rigging chains filled the still room as they lowered from the ceiling. Catching them, Rick attached the carabiners' to a spreader bar between the woman's shaky legs, which began to gradually lift her from the floor in a V formation, meeting Rick at his height.

"Besides, she's much too common for him." Jadis' scowl faded into a mischievous smirk.

Michonne's mind fell into a blurry abyss blocking out the rest of the room as if it was just her occupying it. She struggled to process the sight of a woman ascending in the air by chains. It was a beautifully haunting sight. She reflected on the times she had watch bondage videos when she was a sophomore in college however seeing it in reality was a completely different experience.

Rick hooked the woman's chin with his finger and pulled her dangling head toward him, gracefully brushing her long neck and whispering something in her ear. Fear mixed with arousal ran through Michonne's blood as Rick raised his heavy lids and stared at her from within the crowd, his striking blue eyes taking on a subtle but more silvery glow. A collective cackle of retracting fangs and growls expelled around Michonne resulting in a sea of glowing eyes lustfully watching Rick tear into the neck of the inviting woman. A wave of crushing dizziness washed over Michonne as she felt like her insides were being devoured by a black hole. Nausea creeping in from her abdomen quickly traveling to her head and eventually her world became black.

"Told you, she was common."

Casting her luminous eyes down, Jadis grinned at Michonne's unconscious body in the middle of the hungry flock of strangers whose eyes glittered like jewels in the night.

* * *

Jadis could almost taste the warmth of her skin as she bent down lingering her ready fangs over Michonne's neck before being harshly thrown across the room by the switch of Rick's hand. The room split allowing Rick to easily pass through them like a pride of starving lions clearing out for the elder.

"Should I clear her, Rick?" Delia gently placed her hand on Rick's shoulder as she glossed over Michonne in his arms. Rick tilt his head back retracting his curved fangs inside and peered over his broad shoulder.

"No."

Delia's concerned look dissolved into a more annoyed expression as she took her eyes from Michonne to glare at Rick.

"I realize that it's been weeks since you've taken part in our sacrament but you're old enough to remember the rules."

"My answer remains no. I'm taking her home." Delia struggled to give in but eventually surrendered to Rick's defiance, sensing desperation in his psyche. She continued to watch his frame from afar as he exited the room leaving them dazed and still.

* * *

Rick lightly lowered Michonne's head onto her pillows, her cheek slowly pressing into the cold plushness. Removing her shoes quietly, and then placing the thick comforter from under her weary feet over her, enveloping her in warmth. He sat at the edge of the bed as the stills of Michonne's reaction to seeing him reverberated in his mind. _Why did I think she would be okay with it? What has gotten into me? How could I let this happen?_ He mulled over these questions to himself for what seemed like an eternity before forcing himself up from her side. Placing her purse and apartment keys on the end table next to the bed, the impulsive notion of leaving a glass of water for her whenever she awakened came to mind.

...

Returning to her bedside with a cold glass of water, he was startled by the sight of her eyes calmly opening as if she was waking up from a peaceful dream. Not yet prepared to explain to her the events that occurred tonight, Rick stroked her cheek drawing her eyes deeper into his now glowing ones as she again drifted back into a blacked-out state.

* * *

Her head filled with images of countless crimson eyes circling her lifeless body in the middle of absolute darkness before recognizing Rick's face and distinctly greyer eyes slowly come into focus, drowning out all the others. Suddenly Michonne's eyes shut open, her breathing erratic as she dug her knuckles into the bed, trying to catch her breath. Wiping sweat from her forehead, Michonne hastily reached out and into her top drawer searching for any zoloft tablets, however was rendered frozen by the sight of a full glass of water resting on her end table.

* * *

A chorus of angry motorists' horns and raging engines filled the foggy morning air as Rick steady pushed his arms back and forth jetting toward his destination, dodging small pot holes. He continued to pump his legs as fast as they could go through the busy Atlanta streets. With each heavy breath and spring forward, another worry and thought of Michonne crossed his busy mind. His breathing became labored the closer he got to his office, his legs were not yet tired but his mind was exhausted. His sight had become obstructed from the sweat-drenched stray curls that rested over his focused eyes as he jogged across the parking lot before entering the building to prepare himself for the day.

* * *

Securing the last button of his black collared shirt, Rick withdrew himself from his office desk glaring at his watch nervously as he looked out the window fearing the worst.


	7. Babylon

Waves of nervous energy tingled through him like electric sparks as he stroked the prickly grey stubble on his chin. Mentally worn out by the wonder of where Michonne was simultaneously trying to keep track of Tiffany's long-winded rants. Barely allowing herself to breathe in between run on sentences, she continued twirling her bleached blonde tresses around her fingers going on and on about the her possessive boyfriend. Rick crossed his legs, sinking himself deeper into the plush chair giving her the impression of him actively listening. He took another quick glance at the luminous digital clock on top of his desk; it read 11:34am.

"Miss Rollins, I'm afraid that's all the time we have today." He announced closing a small notepad.

"Already?" Annoyed, she pushed out her bottom lip resembling a spoiled child.

"Afraid so. But I will see you again, Wednesday."

Lightly touching her lower back, Rick escorted her out of the office and into the eerily quiet hallway. He had quickly become accustomed to the sounds of Michonne's speedy typing and rowdy way of organizing paperwork.

"Where's your new receptionist? She quit, already?" Tiffany's brows drew in closer as she scanned over the untenanted desk. His jaw tensed at the question while reaching for the doorknob.

"Enjoy the rest of your day, Ms Rollins."

Respecting his decision to not address her questioning, Tiffany nodded and withdrew herself from the building but was instantly spooked by a voluptuous woman with striking red lips holding a black umbrella in front of her.

"Excuse me." Tiffany gawked at the strange woman while wedging herself out of the way. Rick was not surprised by Delia's visit. Since the start of their lengthy history together, she's made it a perpetual habit of popping up at the most spontaneous of times. His sculpted face set into an indifferent expression with his eyes aimlessly staring into the background while widening the door allowing her inside the building.

* * *

"I'm assuming you never cleared her thoughts?"

Delia raised a cigarette between her chubby fingers before parting her lipstick stained lips, sucking in the smoke deep into her ancient lungs.

"I felt no need to." An old world European dialect shinned through his southern drawl.

"Your selfishness is exhausting me, Rick."

She removed the lit cigarette from her lips, blowing spirals of smoke in the air carefully while studying Rick's stony expression.

"I remember that dreary night you saved me at the steps of Lupanare Grande. No lupanar in Pompeii could match your insatiable thirst. The number of women we seduced and gifted in a night was the envy of every descendant of Rabisu…until everything was ravaged."

Her misty eyes fell submissive to gravity as she cleared an agonizing lump in her throat.

"Now. Look at us! Reduced to jumping from one place to the next like rats whenever a suspicion arises, leaving trails of washed memories belonging to the women you refuse to turn. Jessie. Scarlet. Lori. Ugh, Lori was particularly unbearable. Your taste has truly changed."

"We belong in hell, considering some of the things we've done, Delia."

"Speak for yourself. You're the architect of this peculiar hell. Mimicking mortals will not change who we are, Rick. No matter how hard we wish for it. We lure. We satisfy. And we nourish our appetites from those that cross our paths. You taught me that."

They both stood, paralyzed by the decisions that laid out ahead of them. Delia glossed over the soft lines etched into his face telling the story of a more vicious man, his stubble more silver and thicker than when they first met.

"What are you going to do, Rick?"

He let out a breathy sigh, and closed the distance between them.

"Leave me to figure that out."

"You never told me why you haven't cleared her yet." Delia's honey colored eyes were direct and unmoving.

Sucking on his teeth, Rick slowly bent his head to meet Delia's short stature, searching her still eyes before placidly answering her question.

"Because she deserves to know everything. Now, stop questioning me."

* * *

 **(At Andrea's place)**

Where the hell have you been hiding?

I called you twice last night. You know Aaron got his first DJ gig at that new club off Main St?"

Andrea removed a slice of hot pizza from her mouth and informed Michonne. It wasn't like her to travel all the way across town without calling first.

"Oh. Good for him."

Michonne shook her head, turning down Andrea's offer of pizza but accepted another glass of water as she waited on the couch. Struggling to prevent the hammering anxiety from spilling out and on her face, Michonne settled for gnawing on the inside of her cheek. Andrea hovered over Michonne with a glass of water for a second, observing her friend's uncomfortable nature.

"What's wrong, Mich? You look like you just seen a ghost or you're in serious need of a laxative."

Michonne let out an understated sigh and turned to meet Andrea's green eyes.

"Not quite a ghost."

Michonne gazed at Andrea as if she was an inanimate object, no longer a human capable of engaging or interacting with.

"Okay. You're scaring me now, Michonne."

Andrea bent down and sat at Michonne's side on the navy blue sectional couch giving her a loving nudge with her shoulder. The worry written on Andrea's face was enough to drag Michonne off the precipice of her fears. Andrea was never the type of person that displayed any external fright and that panicked look on her face made Michonne even more petrified that her dreams were true.

"I made the mistake of watching Sinister last night and...you know I'm a scaredy-cat when it comes to things like that. Just a dumb decision."

"Oh god, Mich. I was really thinking something terrible had happened to you or something."

"But anyways. This gig?" Desperately wanting to switch topics, Michonne took a sip of water from the glass before speaking again.

"When is it?"

Andrea reached into her side pocket and drew out her iphone.

"About two hours from now. You up for it?"

Deep down Michonne knew she wasn't but she also knew that she didn't want to be alone tonight. _Perhaps a drink would ease her mind and fear?_ The notion was doubting but she was ready to give anything a try right now.

* * *

Michonne felt the deep bass of the music reverberate from outside the club and under her sneakers as she and Andrea awaited near the front of the line. No desire to impress anyone, Michonne wore a simple white V neck shirt which provided a striking contrast to her dark skin and an old pair of light wash jeans however she was soon beginning to regret her choice in clothing. It was freezing but the line seemed to be moving forward at a steady pace and her only objective was getting inside and drowning everything that happened the night before in Bourbon cocktails. She jumped at the sudden tingle of her phone's vibration against her hip.

"That's probably Aaron checking on us." Andrea uttered while watching Michonne withdrawing the phone from her jean pocket. Michonne's body movements instantly tensed up as she glared at the screen notifying her that Rick was calling. A mixture of dread and adrenaline now coursing through her veins she closed her eyes swallowing the urge to collapse before hitting the bright red decline button.

* * *

Michonne's eyes took a second to adjust to the assault of rapidly color changing lights highlighting the crowded dance floor. The smell of alcohol, sweat and overly applied perfumes filled the air as Michonne and Andrea awaited at the bar for their drinks. Furrowing her brows, Andrea leaned in closer to Michonne.

"Are you sure, you're good?"

"Yeah. I'm good!"

It took every ounce of strength in Michonne's body to maintain a jovial attitude. Her mind was a chaotic swirl of confusion as she tried to organize the craziness that worked its way into her life.

"Ohh! Things have gotten even better now!"

Michonne's eyes lit up and an even brighter grin followed as the female bartender sat their drinks on the meandering and electric blue backlit bar top.

* * *

Michonne gripped her fifth cocktail glass as the last bit of cherry Manhattan ran down her esophagus. Her eyes swiveling towards the back of her head savoring the sweet bite of bourbon toward the back of her mouth.

"Oh no! I told him not to use this song."Andrea placed her drowsy head in the palm of her hands.

Michonne's mind was in a frenzy, the entire club began to feel like a fun house swaying from side to side as the sensation of inhibition washed over her.

"Gucci gang, Gucci gang, Gucci gang, Gucci gang"

Too ashamed to watch Michonne make a complete fool of herself by loudly slurring the lyrics, Andrea continued to speak through her hands.

"Oh my god, Mich. Not you, too. Please don't embarrass us, again!"

"I hate this fucking song too but its the type of song that's lit when you're drunk."

"Lit? Our friendship has taken a horrible turn, Mich."

"I can't buy a bitch no wedding ring. Oh. I gotta pee!" Michonne stumbled off the bar stool searching the nightclub for a restroom.

Andrea removed her head from her hands throwing Michonne a confused frown.

"I don't think that's part of the song?"

"No! I really. I have to pee, Drea."

"Ohh! I think it's over there! But looks like there's a serious line." Andrea winced her eyes trying to get a better look.

"I don't care. Be right back. Order me another Manhattan!"

* * *

Michonne leaned her weak body against a wall as she waited mid-way in the long line to the bathroom. Her head rested on the cold glass wall as a faint but nagging voice at the back of her mind reminded her that this carefree feeling will soon wear off and all her actions tonight will have repercussions in the morning. However, she quickly shelved this fact out of her head as she felt some things were beyond her control, completely passing the point of caring anymore. Another annoying buzz of vibration grazed her thigh provoking her to retrieve her cell from her side pocket.

 _"Sup?"_

 _"Michonne? I'm glad you picked up. I really need to talk to you." Rick's voice was thick with worry._

 _"Well. I don't talk to werewolves, but thanks for the offer."_

 _"Werewolves? Michonne, have you been drinking?"_

 _"Yeah. Yeah, I have. You hit the head on the nail with that one." Rick let out a deep sigh before he began to speak again._

 _"Where are you?"_

 _"I'm in line. I have to pee really bad."_

 _"What nightclub are you in, Michonne?"_

 _"It's a very exclusive one. You won't be able to get in. There's a no werewolf policy."_

 _"What's the club called?"_

 _"I don't know. I gotta go. I'm next in line."_

 _"Michonne!"_

Michonne pressed the phone against her chest, snickering to herself and glancing over to the significantly taller woman in front of her.

"I showed him"

* * *

Michonne sat and watched Andrea grind on nearly every man on the dancefloor while rhythmically bobbing her head to Childish Gambino and finishing the last sip of a Rum and Coke. She had to give it to Aaron, he wasn't a bad DJ, much better than she expected. However, that could just be the numerous alcoholic drinks pumping through her system talking, she thought. Michonne winced her eyes tight not sure if it was her intoxicated brain playing tricks on her or if Rick was really approaching her. Either way, she wasn't taking any chances.

Michonne quickly spun herself around hoping he wouldn't stop and recognize her.

"Michonne?"

Dispirited, Michonne dropped her head as her master plan had failed her.

"Let me get you out of here." Rick reached out his hand hoping she would accept his offer even though she was refusing to look up at him.

"Can't. I came with a friend." Michonne continued to look forward, avoiding any unnecessary eye contact.

"Shane's here with me. He can take her home." Rick placed his free hand within his pocket losing a portion of patience.

"I don't trust you or him."

Michonne finally turned herself around and met Rick's heavy eyes. "I don't even know what the fuck you are, Rick. Why would I go anywhere with you?"

His mouth was set in a semi-pout as his eyes shifted to the side again. Rick understood her caution and fear of him but that didn't make it hurt any less.

A nearby bystander at the bar leaned back forward trying to make his eavesdropping less obvious.

"I promise you, I would never harm you or your friend in any way. I just need to talk to you. And preferably somewhere quiet." His voice raised a notch higher, signaling for Michonne to take notice of the eavesdropper sitting next to her.

"Fine. But I want Andrea to go with me. Where I go, she goes. Got it?"

"You have my word, Michonne."

Michonne nodded before tiredly picking herself up from the stool, looking behind her and feeling her pockets to make sure she still had her phone and apartment keys in case she needed to call for help if Rick went back on his word.

Rick's face reddened with irritation at the vision of Shane and Andrea grinding on each other within the congested club. It was nights like this where he had to second guess their two-thousand-year old friendship.


	8. More Than I Bargained For

An awkward silence settled inside of the black Mercedes-Benz as Andrea and Michonne watched Rick and Shane discreetly debating about something.

"Mich, who the hell are they?" Andrea leaned over and mumbled.

"Remember my boss I told you about?" Michonne looked to Andrea. "Well, that's him and that's his friend, Shane."

"You weren't lying, were you? He is hot. He's friend's not bad either." A sly grin formed over Andrea's lips as she noticed Shane's eyes shift to her in the rear view mirror.

* * *

Passing street lights traveled over Michonne's dark skin as she continued to glare at the back of Rick's head, her mind anesthetized from the numerous Manhattan cocktails. Michonne's eyes sagged as she mulled over Rick sinking his sharp teeth into the helpless woman the night before. Anxiety soon punctured through her bourbon induced euphoria.

"Andrea!" Hesitant, Michonne turned to her close friend and muttered. "I need to tell you something about Rick."

"What?" Andrea's bloodshot eyes narrowed in confusion.

Rick's face was red from suppressed irritation as he grit his teeth, struggling to fight the urge of retracting his fangs.

"Shane, pull the car over." Rick growled.

Both Michonne and Andrea instantaneously took in a deep breath and felt their hearts race as the luxury SUV ceased at the curb and away from the city traffic. The atmosphere inside of the car fell even quieter, as the hairs on the nape of Michonne's neck bristled and goosebumps scattered over her cold, naked arms.

Rick sat silent for a few seconds before turning around, his chilly blue eyes narrowing, piercing further into Michonne's. His movements were slowed, and calculated.

Catching himself, Rick reflected on his decision to not glamour Michonne and eased his eyes, releasing her from his hold.

"Please, tell me you're not going to tell them, Rick?" Shane removed his hand from the steering wheel and pinched the bridge of his nose, already knowing the answer to his question.

Michonne crossed her arms and slumped back into the leather seat, her brows creased and face tense. "Tell us what, Rick?"

A small grin flashed across Shane's face as he observed Rick struggling to put it mildly.

Michonne's lips mumbled "Vampire?" A pitch only she and Rick heard.

Rick's eyes softened at the question, giving her the answer in his tone.

Even though Michonne only knew him for a few weeks, she could read him like a book. Behind those intensely cold eyes, she noticed a flash of something melting within them as he sought her eyes for a reaction.

Overwhelmed by the weight of his covert confession and inebriation, Michonne hastily pulled the chrome door handle of Shane's SUV, gripping her stomach as chunks of early morning breakfast toast and bourbon cocktails splattered in a grassy area next to the asphalt of the road. Instantly overcome with nausea herself, Andrea followed suit.

"We'll let them sleep this off and continue in the morning." Rick affirmed, his eyes tight while scanning over Michonne heaving outside the car.

"You think?" Shane sneered, positioning his hand back on the leather steering wheel.

* * *

The next day Michonne was awakened by a throbbing pain in her head. Her eyes adjusting to the dim room, though it was a quarter past noon, no-one opened the thick drapes. She felt as if her head was going to explode from all the pressure. After a couple of minutes of acquiring enough energy to get out of bed, she tiredly picked herself off the plush bed. Still wearing the same clothes from the night before, she made her way into the bathroom. Turning the faucet, she bent down and splashed the refreshingly cold water onto her face, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror above the sink, she froze. Her eyes were sunken and red, her eyeliner smudged and bourbon still heavy on her breath. Last night, she found nothing more intoxicating than a cocktail yet today the very thought of any alcoholic drink made her feel nauseous.

Her mind continued to mull over the events of the night before but the sounds of an intense argument downstairs pulled her from her thoughts.

* * *

"Did you even know before Delia cleared her, Lori filed a complaint about you to the APA Ethics Office? I had to fucking glamour the investigators, Rick! Are you really risking our bloodline for this? жената не е достојна за тоа!" Shane growled. He couldn't help but revert back to his ancient tongue whenever his temper got the best of him.

Jumping from his seat, Rick stood inches away, his eyes and jaws clenched with intent as their fangs extended at each other.

"It smells like someone's a little smitten?" Shane antagonized.

The sounds of cautious footsteps descended down the staircase and drawing near, capturing both their attention.

Retracting their vicious fangs, they turned toward the main entrance of the room. Rick's body tensed as he watched Michonne slowly making her way into the living room.

"Where's Andrea?" Michonne search the room for any sign of her.

Sensing her fear, Rick tried to reassure her. "She's safe at home. Shane and I made sure of that."

"Well, don't you look…" Shane's eyes scanned over her disheveled appearance with an arrogant contempt. "Sober."

In no mood for taunts as her head was killing her still, Michonne rolled her eyes and raised her middle finger. "Kiss my ass, fuck boy."

"Later, sweetheart." Shane teased, winking his eye.

Rick raised an eyebrow at Michonne's gutsy attitude. He hated to admit it but he was secretly enjoying their little banter. This new feisty spirit that seared beneath her tempting brown skin was an arousing change from her usual timid nature.

"Rick, don't bullshit me. Are you really a vampire?" Michonne gazed inquiringly at Rick, as he let out a deep breath and sat down in the nearest chair, taking his time answering her question.

"I am." Rick locked his blue eyes onto Michonne as she froze in thought.

Annoyed by the drawn-out conversation, Shane broke the growing silence between them. "Just turn her, Rick! She knows too much."

"Shane!." Rick snapped.

"Everything we've worked so hard to protect and you want to risk it for this? A quick taste of chocolate?"

"Тоа е доволно, Shane! Rick's command was low but severe.

Shane shot him a chastened expression before retreating into a back room and angrily shutting the door behind him.

Michonne fixed her mahogany brown eyes on Rick, the same ones that enthralled him when they first met.

He closed the distance between them. "Please, forgive him. I have the sneaking suspicion that he likes you."

Michonne raised her brow as her mouth twisted into a grimace. "He has a disgusting way of showing it."

Rick's expression grew serious. "We live in small, close-knit communities. Practically invisible within the human population. There's between fifty to hundred thousand vampires walking the earth today, scattered in various countries around the world."

She swallowed, giving her time to muse over what he said. "I've seen you." She searched for the right words. "Aren't vampires nocturnal?"

Rick smirked at her curiosity. "The younger ones are. But with age, vampires become more tolerant of the sun."

Rick tilt his head, staring at her more keenly. "Michonne, you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone about what happened that night."

"What would happen if I did?" Michonne's dark gaze narrowed.

Rick closed his eyes for a second, trying to block out the thought before revealing his blue eyes to her again.

"I'm afraid to say."

Michonne's eyes shifted to the ground. "I'm…I need to go, Rick."

"I'll take you home?" Rick offered. Disappointment was thick in his drawl.

"No, I'll just call a uber." She insisted.

Rick followed her over to the staircase, tracking her every move. She paused and looked back after a few steps, locked in his worried gaze.

A flicker of understanding flashed across her face before she resumed her flight up the stairs to gather her belongings.

* * *

 _What the fuck did I get myself into?_ Michonne questioned herself in the backseat of a cramped Toyota Prius. Her hangover not letting up, Michonne rolled down the window to get a whiff of fresh air and hopefully a break from her thoughts.

The blast of cool air felt amazing against her face, slightly colder with her new low haircut. _This is crazy!_ Her thoughts regressed back to Rick.

 _When I get back home, I'm going to change my number, find a new job and just pretend like none of this shit happened. Yeah! That's exactly what I'm going to do. I don't need this fucking shit in my life. This is insane!_

 _But what about him?_ Said the faint voice in the back of her mind.

 _What about him? He's a vampire, he'll get over it._ " She told herself.

 _He cares about yo. He protected you. He can't be all bad_.

" _Fuuuck!_ " She groaned.

* * *

 **The next morning**

Surrounded by a half-organized clutter, Rick tapped a red pen against the glossy desk, his eyes narrow, rigid and cold. Unmoved by a knock at the front door, he leisurely withdrew himself from behind the desk. Irked by the disturbance, as he wasn't expecting any clients this early however, his lethal stare evaporated at the sight of Michonne at the door.


	9. Insomnia

Rick paused with his hand on the doorknob before snickering to himself. He felt silly. The idea of having a woman, especially a human invade his thoughts as much as she did was unimaginable before. Prior to being turned, Rick was born to a wealthy Roman aristocrat where as a young man, he learned promiscuity and arrogance were not only honorable attributes but encouraged. He prided himself on how many women fell at his feet, and the ease at which they surrendered themselves to his charms, and eventually his fangs, fueling his beastly appetite and ego. However, walking the earth for more than two thousand years, Rick's choices grew dull… _until Michonne._

After a moment of mediation, Rick resumed turning the doorknob. The corners of his lips immediately curved at the sight of her. His eyes crawled up her body, instinctively licking his lips as she wore his favorite color; red.

"Ms Boyum." He nodded.

Michonne felt her stomach drop as those crystal blue eyes linked up with her onyx ones. "Rick."

Keeping her greeting short, she sauntered past him and over to the receptionist's desk as if it was just another day at the office.

"I wasn't expecting you to show up today." he proceeded, closing the door. "Or ever, to be perfectly honest." He continued.

"Well-" She bent down, placing her hobo bag in its familiar resting place, and searching her mind for a good response. "I need the money." She secretly winced at how heartless it sounded aloud.

Rick quirked a brow at her sharp answer following her as she continued strolling into the break room. For a moment, he thought she had forgiven him but her tart responses said otherwise. He stroked his grey stubble and dropped his gaze to the ground, giving up the protest of not encroaching her thoughts. The need to know how she really felt was burning through him like magma. He shut his eyes and was immediately hit by the barrage of chaotic anxiety-driven thoughts that plagued Michonne's mind. It must've been exhausting to carry around, he empathized with her. Evolving from incubi and succubus, most vampires only possessed the ability of dreamlurking and memory erasure of humans in slumber. However, only the most skillful vampires were able to manipulate the minds of humans, whether in their sleep or awake.

Rick's eyes wavered under his lids as he continued to dig deeper inside her mind, sorting through fears, ideas and eventually stumbling across her wants and desires. Rick's eyes cracked open as he found what he was looking for. A small wave of guilt washed over him, but was negated by the satisfaction of now knowing she still wanted him as much as he did her. That fact, left a smug smirk on his pink lips.

Michonne let out a deep breath as she found a solution to her nerves in the form of a cold cup of water from the honeywell water dispenser. Completely oblivious to Rick now knowing everything that was bothering her, she took in a large gulp of water. Savoring the refreshment, her nerves began to calm gradually.

Rick sagged himself against the wall, awaiting patiently for her "I don't care" act to come to an end.

Michonne jolted out of her small moment of relaxation and lowered her cup, noticing Rick's intense stare down. She quickly looked away, hoping her eyes were unreadable.

Eyeing Michonne with a mischievous look, Rick broke their silence. "Wanna tell me the real reason you came back now?" His Southern drawl was slow yet playful.

Michonne reverted her eyes back to him, lingering over his face for a long moment. She wondered if he was also remembering the same thing she was. Her mind mulling over the way he savored every inch of her body. It must've taken centuries to master how to touch a woman in such a way. The idea of him being a vampire was starting to make sense, she thought to herself. Her mind then veered off to the way he gazed at her while sinking his teeth into that woman. A nagging thought in the back of her mind feared it was a hint of what he wanted to do to her.

"I told you." She griped.

Rick moved in closer, thoroughly entertained by her stubbornness, he probed deeper into her deceptive casualness.

"You, sure?"

Michonne swallowed, then attempted to gain control. "Look. I'm not going to tell anyone about-" Her eyes drifting over to his mouth as he licked his lips while smoothing back his silky thick brown tresses.

"I just wanna do my job and go home. Okay?" She continued.

Rick smirked and released a defeated sigh.

"Okay. If that's what you want."

Her stomach fluttered as his grin grew wider and more knowing. Her intuition leading her to believe he knew she was lying.

His grin descending at the rattle of the doorknob, interrupting a moment he didn't want to end. An older woman's voice filtered through the door as it creaked open. He gritted his teeth before speaking.

"Mrs. Williams." He greeted with a forced smile. "It's nice to see you again." Rick beckoned Mrs. Williams, regressing back into his professional comportment, the woman eagerly followed him down the hallway and into his office for another scheduled IPT session.

Expelling a relieved sigh, Michonne slyly looked over her shoulder trying to steal another glance of him. Rick's glacier eyes conveyed the message that their conversation wasn't over as he closed the red door after Mrs. Williams. Hoping to distract herself from further thoughts of him, she lowered herself into the leather office chair and removed a large stack of brown folders off the desk. She glanced at her cellphone for any texts before placing it back into the desk drawer. Propping her chin in the palm of her left hand, she pondered how she was going to make it to the end of the day.

* * *

Michonne glanced up at the wall clock, anticipating for the longer hand to finally strike twelve. _Finally! Five o'clock!_ It wasn't long before that, Rick released the last client of the day. She knew that once they were alone again he would likely summon her to his office and resume their conversation from earlier. A fictitious plan soon came to her, as she quickly reached into her large bag, pretending to receive an urgent call from Andrea making sure her voice was loud enough for him to overhear.

"Andrea. Andrea! Calm down. Where are you?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rick coming down the hall with a puzzled look etched on his face.

"Oh my god! I'm on my way!"

"Everything okay?" Rick narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah. It's just Andrea. I gotta go, Rick. But I'll see you tomorrow." She rushed her words before exiting the office.

Skeptical, he placed his hands within his pockets, letting out a smothered laugh as he noticed her phone was locked the entire time.

* * *

 **Five Days Later**

Michonne laid in bed, propped up on one elbow with her head resting on her hand switching though her limited tv channels. It was the weekend and she had nothing to do with it. For the past few days, it was Rick who grew more silent and standoffish, oddly causing her to regret wanting a more professional relationship. Michonne hated to admit it but she _missed_ him.

She unlocked her phone for the thousandth time, hoping she somehow overlooked a text or call from Rick. But there was nothing. She wanted to call him but her stubbornness prevented it. Andrea was busy, Aaron was now dating someone, it felt like everyone had something to do but her. She scowled at an absurd Fox news segment before shutting her tv off, giving into her snarling stomach. She walked into her kitchen and opened the refrigerator, searching for something to satisfy her hunger. It's been over two weeks since she last bought groceries, and having nothing else better to do, she thought now was a good a time as any.

* * *

A sick feeling hit Michonne as the smell of burning oil rose into each nostril. A slur of sputters and rattles from the car engine was soon followed causing her to steer the sedan over to the side of a busy road and into the gravel.

"Fuck!" She slammed her hands onto the steering wheel.

...

She withdrew herself from the Camry, instantly regretting not wearing a sweater, as it was bone chillingly cold outside. She retrieved her purse from the backseat and dug inside searching for her phone, but to her worst fear, it wasn't in there. The wintry air swirled around her as she wrapped her arms around herself tighter. Her breath visible under the amber streetlights. She scanned the unfamiliar surroundings hoping to spot a convenience store to call someone for a lift. _"_

 _Thank god!_ " Her hope was restored as she noticed a Quiktrip nearby. She looked around for oncoming traffic before crossing the road, smelling overdue rain in the air as she quickened her pace.

...

Michonne pushed through the door as the bell rang behind her, alerting the cashier.

"Excuse me! Can I use your phone, please? My car stopped at the side of the road out there." The friendly cashier nodded his head and directed her toward the back of the counter. She let out a sigh of relieve, thankful for the cashier's help.

She placed her hand on the wall, taking in a deep breath before dialing the number.

"Rick?" She spoke before he had a chance to answer.

"Michonne? Is everything okay?" His voice lowered.

"I'm fine. My car stopped and I was hoping-"She paused for a moment. "If you're not busy or anything."

"Where are you? I'll come get you." His voice was soothing and deep.

Michonne pressed the phone into her chest, feeling her stomach flutter before asking the cashier for the store's location.

Her stomach still growling, Michonne decided to purchase a bag of Cheetos and a soft drink to hold her over until Rick got there. Waiting in line, her eyes veered out the window. Michonne winced, realizing that it was Lori pulling up to the convenience store. The headlights of her car shut off, as Michonne observed her thin silhouette checking her cakey makeup in the rear-view mirror before finally extracted herself from the blue Honda.

Michonne prepared herself for a confrontation, reflecting on their last testy interaction.

Lori leisurely walked in the store before stopping behind Michonne awaiting in line to buy her cigarettes. Michonne was surprised by her indifference but not bothered.

"Oh! Cute bag." Lori smiled as she pointed to Michonne's colorful African print hobo.

Taken aback, Michonne gingerly smiled back. "Uh, thanks."

"No problem." She brushed her long hair back.

"Didn't you work for Rick? As a receptionist?" Michonne probed.

"I'm sorry?" Lori's eyes narrowed at the strange question.

"Rick Grimes? The therapist?" Michonne frowned, confused by her lack of recollection.

"No. I'm sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else." She insisted.

"Yeah. I must have." Michonne sensed something off with her, as she knew she had the right person. Michonne purchased her chips and soda before removing herself from the line. She couldn't help but turn around and ask the woman one last question.

"Your name wouldn't happen to be Lori, would it?"

The woman's brows raised at the eerie inquiry. "Y-Yeah. How do you know my name?"

"Lucky guess. Sorry to bother you." Thoroughly freakout out now, Michonne quickly exited the store.

She checked for any impatient drivers before jogging across the street to sit back inside her car and wait for Rick.

…

She tried resting her head back and closing her eyes inside the sedan, hoping it would ease her nerves but it made little difference. Soon after, Michonne's eyes shot open again as she spotted bright lights of a slowly approaching mustang pulling into the gravel next to her broken down Camry. Her eyes squinted as she tried to make out the man that calmly withdrew himself from the black sports car. Warily, Michonne checked to make sure her doors were all locked.

The tall and slender stranger had a confident swagger in his walk as he wandered over to the driver's seat. A small smirk formed on his face before lowering down to get a better look of her inside the car. He tapped his knuckles on the cold glass window, signaling for her to roll it down so they could speak.

"Excuse me, darlin. Do you need a lift?" His voice trailed.

A chill slithered down her spine. " No. I have someone coming. But thank you."

His brown eyes peered into hers like a cobra seeking its prey.

"Well. That's good." He pulled away from the window, resting his arm on the roof. "There's a lot of fuckin weirdos around here this time of night.

He cocked his head back to her." Wouldn't want a beautiful lady such as yourself to encounter one of them."

Michonne swallowed, sensing a glint of intent in his eyes, as he flashed a wicked smile.

Crunching gravel underneath tires pulled Michonne out of his dark gaze as another pair of headlights appeared in the darkness. Rick quickly removed himself from the black Lexus, recognizing the man talking to Michonne.

The man quirked a brow, shifting his eyes from Michonne over to Rick. "Look it's Rick! I haven't seen you around lately."

Instantly feeling safer with Rick there with her now, Michonne removed herself from the Camry and scurried next to him. Rick captured her chin in his hands, ensuring she wasn't harmed. He then placed his hand at the small of her, escorting her inside his car, keeping her out of the strange man's menacing sight.

Rick's blue eyes altered into a beaming metallic gray as he curled his lips up, revealing deadly fangs. "She's mine, Negan." He growled.

"Well, excuse the hell out of him." He moved in closer, his fangs also extending. "I was just making sure she was properly taken care of, that's all." Negan sneered.

"Stay away from her." His snarl was venomous. "If you know what's best for you." His fangs snapped back inside as he darted one last lethal stare before retreating to his Lexus and pulling back onto the road.

Negan's glowing eyes faded back into his regular dark brown as he retracted his teeth, watching the Lexus disappear into the night.

* * *

Michonne gazed at Rick as he drove in silence. His knuckles were white from clenching the steering wheel so tightly. His jaws flexed, as he continued gritting his teeth.

"Rick?" She swallowed a worried lump in her throat. "What the hell is going on? Who was that?"

Rick continued to watch the road as he's face grew more somber. "That's Negan. One of Atlanta's enforcers."

She looked at him with a mystified expression. "What's an enforcer?"

Rick's face went rigid before he stole a glance of her. "He oversees the Vampires in Atlanta, sending any lawbreakers to the Authority."

Michonne's eyes narrowed at him. "Is he trying to send you to the Authority?"

"It would take a lot for him to send a controller to the Authority. He would need a lot of proof, and that, he doesn't have."

Rick's jaws set. "But…I think it would be best for you to stay with me tonight. It's not safe for you to go back home now."


	10. Sweet Dreams

**AN: I really appreciate everyone that's giving this story a chance! I know it's a bit of a oddball. lol**

 **All of your reviews and follows have really made writing it so rewarding. I hope to continue writing fanfic and sharing with you all! And yes this story is going to be heavily influenced by True Blood!  
**

 **Okay, enough ranting! Happy reading ^_^**

* * *

There was nothing but relentless pounding of rain upon the rooftop and rumbling thunder that echoed through their awkward silence. Michonne sat absently staring out the raindrop covered window, her mind racing with everything that happened tonight. Fucking vampires everywhere. Her car. That weird encounter with Lori. Everything was so confusing. " _Was all of this really happening to me right now? "WHY ME?_ " She screamed to herself out of frustration.

Rick took turns watching the road and gazing over her. Her face was stoic, completely lost in thought. The silence between them was slowly killing him.

"Look." He sighed before pulling into the driveway of his home. "I know this is a lot to digest."

"Really, Rick?" She snapped.

Turning in her seat, she crossed her arms annoyingly. "He thinks I'm going to tell everyone about vampires, doesn't he? That's why I can't go home."

Rick's jaws clenched as he removed his hands from the steering wheel, closing his eyes for a second before nodding in agreement. "Any human that's aware of a vampire must be cleared, turned…or killed. That's the law." His voice dragged.

"What's cleared?" She asked quietly.

"Induced amnesia. Erasing all memories that involved a vampire." Rick looked over to study her face for a reaction.

She took a minute to absorb the entirety of what was happening and reflect on what he said. She figured Lori was cleared since she didn't even remember working for him.

"Why didn't you clear me?" Her eyes eagerly watched him for an answer.

Rick let out a tired breath and glared at her for a couple of seconds before looking away.

"I wanted you to know what I was…" He reverted his eyes back to hers. "And still have a choice."

Michonne's face softened by his heartfelt confession as she stared into nothingness. There was a thick stillness in the car for a few moments, leaving only the drizzling rain outside audible between them. She couldn't believe Rick was willing to risk himself just to give her a choice. She felt grateful, and even _special_.

Rick slowly lifted himself up and calmly placed the car keys into his back pockets before maneuvering to fully face her. He took a moment to scan over her delicate face, admiring how richly her dark skin shined in the night. She was truly blessed by the sun, he thought to himself.

Another wave of tension hung in the air between them as he rolled up his black sleeves.

"I need you to do something for me, Michonne." His drawl lingered with tenderness and influence.

Unsure by what he meant, she narrowed her brows. "Do what?"

The snap of Rick's fangs unsheathed caused her to jolt closer to the door. "Rick! What the hell?"

He continued to pierce through his right wrist causing blood to seep out of the puncture marks and drip onto the center console.

"You have to drink this." He held out his bleeding wrist in front of her.

"Rick. I'm not drinking that!" She grimaced at the sight of it.

"Negan knows who you are now. I need to be sure that neither him or any other vampire can enter your dreams tonight."

He retracted his fangs back into his gums before continuing. "They'll know you've been claimed." Rick stopped to stare at her coldly. "Drink, Michonne." His voice was grave, taking on a more husky and darker tone, as he waited for her to get over the disgust.

Michonne's hesitancy started to wane as she reflected on his rationale for the stomach-turning request. "What do you mean by claim?" Her eyes shrunk with interest as she paused at his wrist.

A small yet salacious grin spread across his bloody lips. "You'll be mine." He said with a purr in his voice.

A heat crept up her body as Rick's gaze seemed to consume her from the inside out. Closing her eyes, she swallowed her aversion and leaned forward, finally taking in his blood. The initial taste was the expected salty metallic but it soon evaporated into the most delectable thing she had ever savored. It was indescribably sweet but not in a sugary way. A sweetness that surrounded her like a warm thick blanket in the coldest of nights. His blood lit her entire body on fire, and it was a fire she never wanted to be extinguished.

Pressure built from the base of his spine as Rick's icy blue eyes singed to a tarnished silver. He gritted his teeth at the arousal that traveled throughout his body, provoking him to flinch involuntarily while caressing her head.

* * *

"I hope I'm not wearing you out?" Shane's stubble tickled her stomach as he crept up to meet her lips from in between her soft thighs.

"Never." Her voice was breathy and low.

"Then close your eyes, sweetheart. I have something else for you." He flashed a sinful smile before brushing his lips against her exposed neck.

The sensation of his tender kisses and intoxicating smell of his musky cologne sent a rush of pleasure throughout her body. With each kiss, his lips led her further and deeper into a trance until an excruciating pain shocked her system. She felt her life slowly leaking into him. Shane closed his eyes basking in how delicious she was, yet cautious not to drain her over the threshold of death. His fingers interlaced around her thick spiral curls as he withdrew his sharp fangs at the creaking of the front door.

"Shane. Not in the fucking house." Rick's voice was monotone as if coming home to Shane feeding from a random woman was a regular occurrence.

"I'm not killing her." Shane smirked, licking the last bit of her blood from his lips. "I'm turnin this one."

Shane's eyes then flicked over to Michonne standing motionless behind Rick, her eyes and mouth frozen wide open.

"What's she doing here?" He asked never letting the unconscious woman out of his sight. Her erratic shakes and jerks began to slowly subside, her arms falling limply over the black leather couch.

"She's here because I fucking want her to be." Rick threw him a dark look while leading Michonne inside and across the contemporary styled living room. "And… I think Negan might have caught whiff of me not siring or glamouring her." He admitted before removing his black sweater.

"You think?" Shane snapped sarcastically while reverting his gaze to Michonne. He winced at how unusually red her lips appeared.

"Did you turn her?" Shane flicked his curious brown eyes over to Rick with a perplexed expression.

"What do you think?" A small, barely visible smirk formed on Rick's lips. It pleased him to know a vampire as old as Shane was unable to tell whether a human was turned or claimed. This gave him hope the council would be just as easily mislead into thinking he had corrected the situation of not clearing her.

Reading his smirk for an answer, Shane assumed not. "Well… It's a treat to see you again." His hostile attitude faded into a friendlier one. He knew his Maker well enough to sense Rick's feelings for her ran deeper than he previously thought, and considering they were about to be housemates, there was no need for any bad blood between them.

"Go to hell." She scowled at his weak attempt to be friendly especially after she literally just witnessed him sucking the life out of an innocent woman.

"Been there. It's not as bad as you think." He flashed a sinister grin at her, his eyes downcast, studying the subtle changes in the unconscious woman's skin. Her usual golden undertone faded into a more blueish one, making her glowing caramel complexion look duller. Lifeless.

Michonne's eyes were heavy as they wandered around the room. Everything was beginning to appear dreamlike. Lightly saturated in a shimmering haze however, it never obstructed her sight. Her mind never felt clearer, even her sense of touch grew more sensitive which each stroke of her fingertips against her arms. She wasn't sure if this was real or a hallucination from Rick's blood but she was starving for both food and sex.

"Shane." Rick's calm drawl echoed through the still room. "Fetch something for Michonne to eat." Sensing her hunger, Rick felt it would only be fitting to have Shane make up for his treatment of her by finding something more suitable for her to eat as they had nothing but bottles of Bloody Royale in the kitchen.

Michonne tapped her fingers impatiently on the arm of the plush red sofa chair, unable to contain the contemptuous smile that spread across her full, blood strained lips.

Shane dropped his head and let out a muttered snicker, knowing no vampire could physically refuse a Maker's order. And even if he tried, it would serve no purpose here, as Rick would take her side anyway.

"What do you want?" His tone inferred that he could care less about this information.

"Anything from Red Lobster sounds really good right about now."

Rick couldn't resist smirking at her request as he sat and watched their little exchange.

Shane let out a breathy sigh before closing his eyes at the ridiculous request and picking himself off the couch.

"Rick, can you at least take care of Sasha while I'm gone?" He averted his annoyed gaze to Rick.

Rick nodded in accord as he sauntered over to her lethargic body on the couch.

"Don't forget the biscuits!" Michonne remembered to add as Shane loudly closed the behind him.

Michonne raised herself from the chair and over to Rick's side, looking over the seemingly dead woman, surprised to find out it was one of her old coworkers.

"Is she okay?" She whispered, noticing a faint twitch of Sasha's hand.

"It's a human death she's experiencing right now." He examined her bite as Shane had a habit of draining them too much. "She'll awake a vampire tomorrow night."

Michonne mulled over how easily she could've been in this Sasha's place. She couldn't imagine how she was going to deal with the fact she was no longer a human tomorrow. Then, her mind drifting to another possibility; maybe this is what she wanted.

Michonne felt the soothing comfort of Rick's hand at the small of her back.

"I need you to get plenty of rest night. We have a big night tomorrow."

Her eyes narrowed. "What's happening tomorrow?"

"I have to speak with the Vampire Council…and I need to take you with me."

Any other time, Michonne would've fainted at the thought of having to be in a place packed with bloodsucking vampires after what happened that night. But with Rick's blood that now flowed in her system, made her feel completely calm, even oddly excited.

He continued. "It's best they hear from me before Negan gets to them." He said before lifting Sasha from the couch.

* * *

 **The Next Night**

Michonne's eyes shut open, as pitch black greeted her eyes instead of the usual bright yellow sunrise through her front windows. _How long did I sleep?_ She asked herself. The last thing she remembered was kissing Rick in bed. Michonne felt the urge to check the side of her neck, feeling for any bite marks but there was none. The taste of iron was still heavy on her tongue, a sobering reminder that yesterday was not a dream.

She groaned out of discomfort as she looked around the dark room for any sign of light. Tiredly lifting herself up with her elbow before a ghostly murmur startled her upright.

"Rick!" Her voice quivered in panic.

Reaching out for something sturdy to grab onto, Michonne felt a wooden rail at the end of the bed frame, using it to balance herself off the opulent bed. The deep silence in the room was almost deafening, only causing her to grow more paranoid. Warily, placing one foot in front of the other, she resumed searching the room for any movement. She jumped at the feeling of someone's hand on her shoulder causing her to accidentally knock something on the floor.

"Who the fuck is there?" She demanded in a winded voice.

"Careful." Rick's voice was deadly calm as she turned the ceiling light on, sitting at the edge of the bed. "Are you okay?" He looked concerned.

"Were you sitting there the whole time?" she wondered.

"I was for the most part. But… I did leave to get you this." Michonne's eyes lit up at the sight of a Neiman Marcus shopping bag that he retrieved from behind his back.

He smirked devilishly as he brought in his face within inches of hers "I want you to make an unforgettable first impression."

Michonne reached out and interlaced her fingers around his dark curls, pulling him in bed.

* * *

Michonne glared at herself in the mirror, checking her makeup one last time. She couldn't help but feel as if she was getting married. This meeting must've been very important to him, she thought since Rick even summoned his other progeny, Delia over to assist her in getting ready. On the outside, Rick was cold and collected but she could sense he was nervous, even though he would never let that be known.

* * *

Michonne scanned over the stony gray castle, as Rick pulled into the congested parking lot near a dark lake that overlooked the city. He circled around the car and assisted his enchanting date out of the Lexus, taking her hand in his and leading her toward Valek's extravagant chateau. Michonne gasped at its full beauty as it came more into view, rising from between the rolling emerald hills. It looked like something that could've been built in Transylvania.

Her black and red Alexander McQueen lace gown trailed across the obsidian floors as Rick lead her into the dark soirée. Michonne scanned over the elaborate water foundations spouting what looked like to be blood instead of water, and the distinguished guests that looked like they just leaped out from Bram Stoker's Dracula.

Being escorted by a vampire of Rick's caliber meant she didn't have to wait in long lines anymore, instead she had direct access to the most exclusive affairs in the underground world. While leading her, a unwarranted jealously recoiled within Rick, as he noticed a flicker of thirst in a passing vampire's eyes directed at Michonne. This caused him to take hold of her hand even firmer as he led her through the prestigious crowd.

From within the crowd, Jadis' eyes burned green, recognizing Michonne once again holding onto her dream man's hand. She took a small sip of her bloody martini enviously gawking at them before the thought to make her presence known came to her, as Rick was continuing to avoid her calls.

"It's going to be hard for me to keep from tearing off that gown off you tonight." Rick said it in a tone so sexy, Michonne felt her pussy contract involuntarily.

He couldn't help but steal glances of her in between countless greetings of old strangers. Michonne batted her long lashes at him as his stare burned through her. It was as she was looking at the devil himself, unsure of whether he was about to fuck her right here and now or just eat her alive. If looks could kill, she'd be dead ten times over.

"Rick." A woman's raspy voice broke their intense gazing of one another. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes." Jadis glossed over how incredibly handsome he looked tonight with hunger in her eyes.

Sensing Michonne's jealously boiling, Rick smirked before dropping his head, hoping Michonne wouldn't let her anger get the best of her.

"Thank you, Jadis." He's voice went dull.

Completely blocking out the existence of Michonne standing right next to him, Jadis continued to flirt and inched closer to Rick. "You should come back to Bloodlust. I would love to surrender myself to you." Her voice was whiny and suggestive.

"Maybe we'll both come." Michonne interrupted with a sneering grin before turning to kiss Rick, feeling his strong hands wandered over and squeezing her firm ass.


	11. Don't Wish Me Well

Jadis swallowed her embarrassment and shifted her eyes away, forcing a nauseous feeling down her throat. She masked the urge to release her fangs with a snicker. Rick was yet again dismissing her for someone else. It was driving her crazy and testing every ounce of her patience. Nonetheless, she held onto the chances of Michonne being nothing more than a live donor to him, like all the rest; just a desperate fool he glamoured after each drain and fuck. _She couldn't be anything else_. _Rick would never_. She reassured herself and smiled before haughtily staring down at the dark beauty.

"Poor. Little. Vampire groupie. Thinks she has a chance with a powerful vampire." Her eyes narrowed. "Soon Rick won't even remember your name."

"Jadis!" Rick let out a warning snarl, trying to avoid attracting more attention to himself and Michonne.

A tiny tinge of sorrow coursed through Michonne for a moment, reflecting on what Jadis said, and if it was really true. Swallowing that thought, she slowly turned around to face her. Perhaps it was one of the side effects of Rick's blood but all her inhibitions seemed to evaporate with each step she took closer.

Michonne's footsteps were slow and deliberate. "It must really hurt." She stopped inches from her before sensing the tight grip of Rick's hand around her forearm.

"Even being a vampire, you still have no chance." Michonne smiled conceitedly at Jadis' face left flushed with rage.

"Excuse us."

Pulling her from the tense exchange, Rick led Michonne through the sea of distinguished guests and onto the moonlit terrace.

* * *

She continued to follow Jadis' vengeful eyes before Rick hauled her over and into a shaded corner that overlooked Valek's lush courtyard.

The night breeze carried coldness up from the lake to the terrace and spilling over Michonne's naked arms just under the black lace, causing her to wrap herself for warmth.

Rick paced in a small circle, running his fingers through his neat curls while sporadically gazing at her with heavy, distressed eyes. Eventually ending his pacing, he took notice of Michonne shivering from the cold. He was far too lost in his thoughts to even sense the chilly wind.

"You shouldn't have done that." He snapped while unbuttoning his double-breasted blazer and then draping it over her shoulders.

"I had to say something! That bitch was asking for it." She huffed, adjusting the black blazer and leaning against a marble pillar.

"Michonne, look at me." He inched closer to her, placing his hands inside the pockets of his tuxedo trousers.

"We need to be discreet here. If they-" He let out an exhausted breath.

"Valek and Maggie can be quite intrusive at times so if they ask you anything jus-"

"Rick. Relax." She placed her hands on his shoulders. "We got this."

Rick stared down at her, beaming with a kind smile. He was in awe of her nonchalant attitude especially in such a grave time. He leaned in closer, taking in the coppery scent of his blood still fresh on her tongue. Aside from the usual increased sexual lust and deeper bond between them, it was apparent Michonne also acquired the trait of valor which only enhance her beauty even more. He tilted his head to get a better look of her before gesturing his arm to escort her back inside the gothic revelry.

* * *

Michonne swallowed as she looked around the dark narrow passageway. The obsidian rock that embellished the floor before soon faded into a crimson carpet. The thick walls were adorned with lurid tapestries, making the whole place feel even more regal. She clasped Rick's hand tighter as a tall and slender man dressed as if he could work for the Secret Service preceded to open the large chamber doors to the Council's quarters for them.

Michonne could feel her chest tightened as she stepped inside the softly lit vampire lair. She glossed over the imposing vampires sitting around a massive table, savoring blood from crystal wine glasses. The scene was made even more intimidating by their glowing eyes collectively brought to a standstill, giving them their full attention.

"Rick. How kind of you to grace us with your presence. I see you brought a guest." The sound of Valek's deep voice broke the silence and reverberated through the still room as he gestured over toward two empty seats next to him. "Please. Sit."

His movements were fluid as water as he presided over the table resplendent in his red 19th century velvet blazer. He spoke with a distinctive Irish dialect, which was surprising to Michonne as she anticipated something more eastern European with a name like Valek.

An involuntary shiver ran down Michonne's spine as Valek's brooding eyes trailed over her petite figure in Rick's blazer while guiding her over to a chair beside him with a pale, elegant hand.

Valek had a towering presence even when he was sitting. If he had been standing, he would've easily been over 6'3 surely, she thought. His coppery brown hair nearly blocked out his faint blue eyes, regardless, they remained fixed on her as Rick led her around the table.

"Rick Grimes. We were just discussing you." A man informed him across the antique table. His eyes were dazzling - a translucent, pale brown almost amber in the light, it juxtaposed his rich olive skin and shiny black hair that was tied back.

"That's why I'm here, Zero." Rick's voice was calm as he pulled out a chair for her to sit. Michonne looked over her shoulder at him before sitting; his jaws were clenching like they always do whenever he's anticipating a confrontation or nervous. His eyes even seemed bluer than usual, somehow encompassing every shade of blue known to man under the diffused light.

"Who's the doll?" A young woman said flicking her gaze over to Michonne in front of her. She was dressed in a cream silk gown, her neck and ears adorned with polished diamonds giving her an old Hollywood air.

"Michonne, this is Maggie. Maggie this is Michonne." Maggie scanned over her approvingly with her big emerald eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, Michonne." She grinned showing teeth, but no fang. "And who is she to you?" Her perceptive eyes looked up to Rick with a slight grin.

His eyes fell, purposely avoiding Michonne's as he felt it would give away his prepared lie.

"Just a concubine." He sat, reaching out for the blood glass in front of him, attempting to redirect his attention from their stares; Both pair of eyes conveying a different message to him.

In vampire society, concubines and vampires have a transactional relationship. Concubines were subservient claimed humans who were kept for sex and blood in exchange for status and an extended lifespan. They were also glamoured often as to not spread their awareness to the outside world.

"We've heard the beliefs of you entertaining the idea of mainstreaming these days." Valek's eyes darted over to Rick.

Mainstreaming was the act of fully integrating with human society. No longer living in the shadows but making their existence known to the human population. It was the idea that relationships with humans could consists of more than just sex and blood; a genuine courtship. This notion was contested by elder vampires but highly supported among younger ones.

"I indulged for a moment." Rick lowered his glass and paused creating an uncomfortable silence. "It was an asinine decision." He added, stealing a short glance of Michonne.

Michonne wasn't quite sure what they were discussing and the meaning of mainstreaming but she sensed Rick knew what to say so she said nothing. Feeling a cold hand on her shoulder, she jolted at the sight of a tall blond server hovering over her with a glass of water. She winced while looking over the lanky man's neck, shocked by the numerous bite marks that covered most of it. She hesitantly accepted the water, pondering if they were keeping him against his will before taking a sip.

"Well." He paused. "Our worries have been laid to rest." Valek arrogantly looked over to Maggie with a nonverbal "I told you so" grin.

Annoyed by his arrogance, Maggie looked down, running her manicured finger across the edge of the aged table top.

"We should be able to co-exist with humans without shame or chastisement." She stated firmly.

"Don't be absurd, Maggie." Said a bronze-skinned woman, with a skin tone rivaling Michonne's.

"What is absurd is living forever in isolation. It is plausible that humans will not harm us, Adaka."

Michonne's body rose in her seat as she fought the urge to speak up in the humans' defense but soon felt the burning of Rick's stare from the side of her eye.

Letting out a huff, she caved in and refrained her opinion.

"Humans harm and destroy everything they touch." Adaka stared deeper into Maggie's green eyes. "Anything they do not understand will be subjected to abuse and devastation." Her eyes began to appear glossy as if she was fighting back tears.

Adaka was turned days before being captured by Dutch slave traders for the Americas. During her coming of age as a young vampire in the new world named Virginia, she witnessed the death of her family at the hands of cruel men and other unspeakable horrors to others and to herself. Luckily, she able to escape a life of further torment in the means of killing a master of her plantation, freeing others and fleeing toward the north. During the Civil War, she sired numerous women, creating a brothel of vampires who fed mostly on southern soldiers.

"And we do not hurt others also?" Maggie's soft voice trembled with boiling anger.

Adaka froze and stared at her as if she thrown a jagged dagger into her heart, completely numb with shock.

The eerily buoyant server sauntered over once more to Michonne's side, this time with a place of food in his bony hand. She was grateful. For if she couldn't speak, at least she could eat to keep from giving away Rick's cover. Removing the plate cover, her spirits again dropped as her eyes blinked over the cafeteria-type food they prepared for human guests.

"Ladies. Please! We have guests." Zero interjected, trying to restore the tranquility of the table.

"Well. Isn't it one of the best enforcers in the great state of Georgia. We've been meaning to speak with you as well." Valek greeted Negan in.

Michonne's brown eyes crept over to Rick, who was strangely cool with Negan's arbitrary visit.

Earlier that day while picking out Michonne's gown, he requested for Delia to record one of Negan's many misconducts while traversing. Unwarranted mistreatment of vampires in districts controlled by Rick was a violation, making him subjected to demotion. Hours before the festivities, Delia successfully presented the Council with the video evidence of one recent incident.

"I can't imagine what for." Negan's voice was light and mocking while staring over Rick with a knowing expression.

"We've been informed that you have been mistreating vampires within the confines of Rick's stations." Valek's face grew darker. "Be very careful with your next words, Negan."

Deceiving the Council was also a grave offense however, it was punishable by death.

Swallowing his pride, Negan smirked to himself and nodded silently. "It's true but I will not let it happen again."

Valek dropped his head and resumed presiding over the entire table.

"Our laws are in place for protection. They were created for our kind to thrive without being eradicated by the human race. And they will continue to stand as they are." Valek demanded as he glossed over the quiet room.

"Mainstreaming is forbidden until there is another unified vote on the subject, understood?" He glanced around for agreement.

He then directed his intense gaze to Rick. "I am pleased you discovered mainstreaming is naive drivel from your own accord but Rick, please. Think of your precinct first. Consider this a one-time courtesy from old friends."

"You wanna fucking run that by me again? Just like that he's absolved of mainstreaming?" Negan blurted out, furious that Valek was yet again displaying nepotism for Rick.

"We will deliberate your punishment tomorrow. But tonight, we feast and celebrate the night." Valek declared.

"I will toast to that." Zero added while raising his glass toward Valek and Abaka.

Giving Negan an arrogant smirk and wink of an eye, Rick raised his glass and proposed a snide toast of celebration in his direction.

* * *

Rick sat with Valek reminiscing about their first time coming to America and how much humans have stayed the same while stealing glances of Michonne in between. The low luminosity of the room casted varying shadows on his attractive features, his disheveled wavy chestnut locks clashed with the iciness of his blue eyes, giving him an even more imposing presence.

Throughout their conversation, women would come up to him, but he barely gave them the attention they were seeking.

Seeking the overwhelming desire to be somewhere more secluded, Michonne lifted the tail of her expensive gown and scurried toward the exit of the room, hoping Rick was reading her thoughts to follow.

* * *

Michonne slowly sauntered down the hall, exploring the various rooms in Valek's castle. She couldn't help but notice there was a distinctive sadomasochism theme conveyed in the decor. The walls were shrouded in erotic artwork, both ancient and new of women and men painted in submissive poses. It was reminiscent of the club Rick had first taken her to. Either vampires were extreme hoarders of odd sexual art or they all had a serous flair for freaky shit, she laughed to herself before taking notice of a vibrantly red colored room. It stood out in the middle of the medieval styled castle. It seemed newer then all the other rooms. Maybe it was built with a singular purpose in mind, she pondered.

"A concubine, specifically." Rick's voice drawled from behind her.

Startled, she hastily turned around but quickly let out a relieved exhale. Being a guest, she detested the idea of being perceived as that nosy person who enjoys prying through other peoples' belongings.

"I didn't even hear you." She removed her hand from her heart. "You're really going to have to stop doing that. You nearly gave me a heart attack, Rick."

Heavy silence washed over the red room as Michonne waited for Rick to speak however, he remained deadly quiet. She let out a nervous chuckle breaking under his cold gaze.

"Ready to go?" She played coy.

"Not yet." His voice lowered as he closed the door behind him.

"Bend over and place your hands on that leather bench in the corner."

She stared at him with a reluctant expression.

"Rick. What if some-"

"Don't."

The severity in his warning sent shivers down her spine in the best possible way. "Make me ask you again." He continued, flicking his heavy eyes back to hers.

She took a moment to think it over. Throwing him a playful grin that only intensified the tension between them. She eventually obeyed, anxiously placing one foot before the other moving closer to the back of the room. She inhaled, bending down to rest her forearms over the cold leather.

Standing in front of the back wall, laced with various whips, canes and other beautifully crafted tools of pleasure and pain, Rick ceased, mulling over the best one to use.

Michonne was still but her toes curled from the nervous energy that traveled up her body like electrical sparks. Slyly looking over her shoulder, she glanced at him for the next instruction but his face remained cold and serious.

She lowered her lashes as hot blood flushed her cheeks. She could only imagine the series of depraved ideas swirling behind that stern gaze. She swallowed.

"Lift up your gown and pull down your panties." He said with a purr in his drawl, smirking at the small craving spark in her brown eyes.

Michonne paused with hesitation. She never considered herself a passive person but with Rick there was a burning inside of her that drove her to be. And she didn't question it.

Closing her eyes, Michonne gathered the end of her gown over the small of her back. She then slowly slid her black cotton panties down, resting them at her ankles. _One. Two._ She counted silently, preparing herself for his next move. It was then, she feels the gentle brushing of his fingertips over her exposed ass.

The sight of her chocolate brown ass caused him to grow hard. Her body involuntarily rubbed up against his stiff erection. His sharp nails delicately caressed over her warm skin.

"Do you need the safe word?" His voice was strict but not harsh as he scanned over her flushed face. Lending her a way out if she needed it and without shame."

"No." She opened her eyes and answered in a light breath.

It wasn't the first time Michonne felt someone underestimating her. Doubting her ability to endure something she knew she was more than able to take on. Her mind then steered to her previous bosses. Constantly making her believe she was not worthy, like if she was thinking in over her depth. Her eyes then veered over to Rick.

He corked an eyebrow, taken aback by the eagerness in her eyes. Perhaps there were more things about her that he didn't yet know. _A dark rose, she was indeed_. He smiled to himself.

"Good girl." He commented approvingly, trying to redirect her attention back into the game.

He lingered over her for a few more moments. His eyes climbing her body, roving over her bent stance. Choosing to use his hand instead of a device, for this evening as he wanted to feel the warmth of her skin on the palm of his hand.

Without another word, Rick slaps her ass with a light but swift force.

Michonne's breath cut off by the abrupt stinging sensation of Rick's hand. At that moment she didn't know what was more unnerving: the fact that she enjoyed it or the fact she wanted another. A small smirk spread across his pouty lips and he read her mind. With her palms resting flat on the plush leather, she steeled herself for another spank however, she was ill prepared as this one came with a much more sweltering force than the one before it. She squealed and let out breathy moan, struggling to not be too loud. With each flick of Rick's hand growing more severe than the last, her ass seared with a white-hot pain that carried over to something else entirely – Something that charged her with desire.

His curls were drenched in sweat from the vigorous blows. Unable to resist how delicious he looked he reached out and wrapped his strong hand around her delicate throat, gently bringing her in closer to him. Baring his already retracted fangs, he sunk them into her fragile neck. Making sure to only take in a careful quantity, as to not turn her.


End file.
